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florencemtrash · 3 months

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In a year's time - Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Angst, jealous Azriel, fluff

Masterlist of Masterlists

"But for all he knew you could have fallen for some dashing golden warrior, or found that you preferred your shiny, new friends over him - that you’d found a quieter city full of fae that stole your heart as well as your attention away from him."

Mor narrowed her eyes at the Shadowsinger, watching as he adjusted the collar of his newly tailored suit jacket and then combined his hair back with scarred fingers.

Azriel had always been annoyingly beautiful - even during their middling years when their voices cracked and they hadn’t yet grown into their long, slender limbs - and so he’d never needed to take special care of his appearance. His hair dried in perfect waves, his skin was smooth and clean despite the scars, and his training had carved out a silhouette as strong and capable as it was alluring. So why did he keep smoothing down his waistcoat like he was nervous?

Mor darted out a tongue, cleaning up the drop of wine that threatened to fall from her ruby red lips, “Azriel? What in the Mother’s name are you doing?”

His eyes barely flicked over to where she lay sprawled out on his bed. She had no intention of attending this ball sober, and if the near empty bottle of wine balanced precariously against her knee was any indication, she would exceed her goal before they even stepped outside his bedroom.

He picked up the tie - midnight blue and hand-embroidered with silver thread - and flung it around his neck.

“Getting ready for the ball.” He answered blandly.

She rolled her eyes, “Obviously,” then continued to stare at him expectantly as he finished knotting the tie, folded his pocket square, and then slid his weapons into place as a last measure, cobalt blue siphons flashing from the backs of his hands.

It clicked all at once as he strolled for the door, forcing Mor to abandon the glass and drink straight from the bottle.

“Oh my gods.” She said, mouth agape. Her shoes clicked along the marble floors of the River House like the beating of drums.

Azriel groaned internally. Even tipsy and wearing seven-inch heels, Mor kept up with his long strides easily, prodding his side accusingly with her wine bottle. It magically refilled itself with every jab.

“You’re trying to impress Y/n!”

Suddenly it was as obvious as the sun rising in the east. He’d chosen the tie you complimented him on last Starfall, despite his hatred of its fanciful nature. He was wearing the silver moonstone cufflinks you’d bought him for his birthday. He’d even combed his hair because he knew you’d notice and muss it up for him.

“Mor-” He warned, color beginning to dust his cheeks. His shadows darted around the hallway, climbing the velvet curtains and peering around the corners to watch for any potential eavesdropping.

“I knew it! I knew it!” She said, swatting him with a frustrated hand. Her red silk dress clung to her waist and thighs before fluttering out in a halo around her knees as she chased after him, aiming to slap him across the head.

Azriel stopped in his tracks and grabbed at her wrists, desperately hoping no one else in the house had left their rooms yet. If he was really lucky, the two mated couples would be making enough noise of their own to drown out Mor’s excitement.

“Mor, stop it. And be quiet.”

“You loooove her.” She crowed, dragging out the sound. Suddenly she straightened up, hands on her hips and frowning, “Is that why you’ve been so irritable lately? Because you miss her?”

Azriel said nothing, gave away nothing, even though Mor had hit the nail on the head in her drunken stupor.

It had been a great honor when Thesan offered to take you under his wing and train you personally. More than a favor to Rhysand, he’d seen your healing talent and wanted your expertise to be well represented in the Dawn Court. So a year ago you’d packed up your things and said your goodbyes.

“It’s only temporary.” You’d promised him, “I’ll be back before you know it. In a year’s time.”

But a lot could change in a year. You’d sent plenty of letters back and forth to each other, and Azriel would be loath to admit that he slept with them clutched against his chest every night so whispers of your scent would chase the nightmares away.

But for all he knew you could have fallen for some dashing golden warrior, or found that you preferred your shiny, new friends over him - that you’d found a quieter city full of fae that stole your heart as well as your attention away from him.

He was happy for you and had been the one to encourage you to move to Dawn. But that didn’t mean he didn’t miss you terribly. You’d been missing from his side like a torn limb, and Azriel had been walking through life at a crooked angle ever since.

“I don’t-” He sighed, he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love you. He just couldn’t, “It’s none of your business, Mor.” He amended.

He released her wrists breezed past her, but she sprinted ahead of him, splaying her limbs out on the staircase to block his path.

“You need to tell her you love her. Tonight.” She commanded. Her words slurred out gently, the faerie wine finally kicking in when she’d wanted it to. “I mean it, Az.”

He shook his head, “I can’t tell her tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I haven’t seen her in a year! I can’t drop that kind of truth on her.”

“Yes you can!” She fought back. There was some muddled piece of information hanging at the edges of her mind, something important she needed to tell Az. But the wine held it back. Fuck. She cursed inwardly.

“No. I. Can’t.”

“Yes. You. Can.” She was practically seething, pearly brown eyes unfocused but unrelenting. She knows something I don’t, Azriel realized in a burst of shock.

“What is it, Mor? What did she tell you?”

She blinked, dropping her arms from the burnt umber railings. His heart quickened. Had his worst fears come true? Had you found someone else in Dawn worth staying for?

“I-” Damn it. She shouldn’t have finished the second bottle. She cradled it protectively against her chest, feeling the glass cool her hot skin, “I don’t fucking remember.”

“What do you mean you don’t remember?”

“I mean, I’m drunk, Az. And drunk Mor doesn’t remember shit.”

His heart quickened further, a crushing sense of guilt and loss wrapping around his chest like a corset and tightening. Mor at least was saved from further useless interrogation when Rhysand and Feyre bounded out from down the hallway, tastefully disheveled and looking sinful in Night Court black.

Rhysand cleared his throat, straightening his dinner jacket and absent-mindedly straightening Feyre’s crown for her, “Everyone ready to leave?” His eyes glazed over, calling out to the last missing members of their party.

Cassian and Nesta spilled out of their room next, the braids of her coronet slipping out and spilling over her heaving chest. Azriel tipped his head to the ceiling and cursed silently. Mother have mercy…

Nesta pulled up on the strap of her lace dress, only to find that it had been torn to ribbons.

Cassian was in no better shape - the collar of his white shirt was smeared with lipstick, although he didn’t have the same sense as Nesta to look annoyed at the interruption to their… activities. A toothy grin bloomed on his face, shoulder-length hair tangled like someone had been yanking it for hours.

“Can’t make it tonight, Rhys.” He said. He glanced down at Nes, “I’m not feeling well.”

“Me neither.” Nesta said hastily, slipping back behind the door and hauling Cassian inside with her like he weighed as light as a feather. Four months after their mating ceremony and they were as insatiable as ever.

“You’re full of shit, Cass!” Rhys called out just before the door slammed shut. A muffled Fuck you! Came from within, followed by a, Tell Y/n we’ll see her at home! From Nesta.

They winnowed to the outskirts of Daybreak Hill, landing in a field of cushiony moss dotted with pink and violet heather that stirred in the breeze like the dusk-painted clouds above.

Feyre sighed deeply, breathing in the scent of lavender and rosewater. She loved Velaris and no one could hold a candle to the beauty of the Night Court… except perhaps Dawn.

It was like someone had laid a mirror flat on the earth. Periwinkle skies kissed rolling sage green hills dotted with red-roofed villages and sank into lakes of pearl and lavender until it was impossible to tell where the sky started or ended.

The Dawn Court Palace’s twisting spires of honey marble glowed brighter than the setting sun. So brightly in fact that Mor had to help shield Azriel’s eyes with her soft hands as he carried them up through low-hanging satin clouds. Dots of scarlet and midnight black soaring through cotton skies.

His hands turned clammy and the tightness in his chest felt like a giant’s fist squeezing his heart, but he convinced himself it was the thin air that was responsible, and not the raging longing in his heart for you. Still, he had to appreciate the beauty of the red-roofed villages below, tinkering hands hard at work inside chestnut workshops filled with glistening bronze and copper.

They dove through the columns into the open-air hall, any dampness from the mist magicked away by Thesan’s careful hands as he stepped down from the golden dias to greet his honored guests. His rich, copper-colored skin radiated light, melting with the darkness that rippled off Rhysand and Feyre’s shoulders as they shook hands and exchanged the usual pleasantries.

Mor stretched her silky arms above her hands, catching the eyes of a cherub-faced female reaching to grab a flute from the champagne tower. Normally, Mor would have been flattered, but with Emerie at home and a wine-drunk haze over her mind, she was feeling more anxious than anything else. What the fuck was it that she was trying to remember?

Faelights bloomed above him, tinkered in the shapes of roses that gently pulsed, fluttering petals propelling them across the room in a sway of light.

But Azriel was barely paying attention. His eyes skimmed the crowd, searching for a silhouette he knew as intimately as the ridges of his hands.

There.

You stood across the room, half-hidden in the stone archway beside Thesan’s lover, Herades. You bowed your head towards him in silent conversation, nursing a glass of champagne in your hand to try and cool your nerves. Azriel would be arriving soon, if he wasn’t already here, cradling the walls in search of dark corners like he was bound to do. You’d been imagining all the ways you’d greet him - with a joke, with a meaningful embrace, with a kiss. You shook her head, pushing the last thought out of your mind and focusing on Herades’s story again.

Your laugh was a flare of light blooming at the end of a match. Azriel stared utterly captivated. Time moved slower than syrup when you finally met his eyes and smiled with an affection more precious than gold.

“Az!” You squeezed Herades’s arm, politely excusing yourself, and then you were off. You sprang across the room in a billow of cream fabric, like milk poured into coffee. The tips of your pleated skirts were touched with blue like you’d waded out into the night sky. The color matched the ribbon in your hair, and the siphons of a certain lovestruck Shadowsinger.

“Y/n,” He breathed out. You flowed into his arms and he gathered you into them like a bouquet of wildflowers, breathing in your familiar scent of rosemary and peppermint. Gods I missed you. He whispered in his mind, hoping that somehow you’d hear it at the end of that glowing thread.

But the hug was short-lived. Too short-lived.

“Mor!” You sang in that melodic voice he loved so much, grasping for her next, then Rhys, then Feyre.

Thesan looked on humbly, sighing faintly when Herades caught up to you and immediately slid to Thesan’s side.

“Oh I’ve missed you all so much.” You said, rocking back and forth.

“We missed you,” Feyre said into your hair. She was the one to pull away, smoothing out ribbon and giving you a once-over look.

Your time had been well-spent at the Dawn Court. Extra color bronzed your cheeks and tinted your lips a pale berry shade. You stood up straighter, smiled a little wider, and walked with an extra height to your step. You’d always been beautiful and graceful, but it was like you were aware of it now - like you’d grown the last few inches into your body.

“You look lovely, Y/n.” Feyre said and Mor agreed enthusiastically, commenting on your dress and your hair and your… well everything.

“Thank you,” You said, blushing, “Thesan’s treated me very well.”

That was an understatement. He’d set you up in his personal household, paid you handsomely (even more than Rhysand paid you if that were possible), and had had the royal seamstress sew ten dresses for you to pick from for tonight’s ball alone. It was your party after all in commemoration of the advancements you’d made in child birthing practices. You’d handled twelve pregnancies alone in the past year across Dawn and Winter, all of the children delivered safely and as plump and rosy as summer cherries.

“And you’ve repaid it to my court ten-fold.” Thesan said and held up his drink. Even Herades smiled, tawny feathers flaring out with pride. You were responsible for the safety of his sister-in-law and the birth of his nephew - hawk wings and all.

It was a flurry of activity following the Night Court’s fashionably late arrival. You dragged Azriel and Mor up to the dais after Rhys and Feyre. Traditionally the table was only meant for High Lords and their partners, but Thesan was a unique and progressive leader in more ways than one.

Herades and Thesan sat in the middle with Feyre and Rhysand, leaving you, Azriel, and Mor at one end and Thesan’s sister and her husband at the other.

Azriel was eternally grateful when Mor lunged for the center-most seat, forcing you to sit between her and Azriel. You bumped knees with him, leaning close as you whispered about the Court gossip you’d managed to overhear from the cooks or discussing the progress you’d made in the Winter Court.

Course after course appeared in front of him and disappeared, hardly touched. He wasn’t hungry for anything other than you, focusing on the crease within your brows as you tried to remember all the news you couldn’t write to him about or the twist of your perfect, flushed lips as you displayed your displeasure and your joy.

If he believed himself to be worthy of your affection he would have whisked you away hours ago, disappearing into whichever room in the palace was yours and pressing you against the wall, lip-locked until the need for air forced him to stop.

“How are Kallias and Viviane doing?” Mor asked, perking up at the mention of the Winter Court.

You smiled, your cheeks flushing with color, “I’m not supposed to say, Mor, so you must promise not to tell anyone. Anyone.” Mor locked her mouth and threw away the key. Your lips brushed against the sharp curve of her ear, “She’s pregnant.”

Mor clapped a hand over her mouth, nearly upsetting the glass of wine balanced precariously on the edge of the table. One of Azriel’s shadows darted out, pushing it safely out of the way of her swaying arms.

“Stop.” She hissed in disbelief. Her golden hair seemed to brighten with her cheeks.

You nodded, “With twins.”

Tears flooded her eyes, “That wench didn’t tell me.”

“She’s been busy, if you can imagine.”

“Still!” Mor muttered under her breath, eating her food slowly and sipping on her wine quickly. She gave up on being sober the more males approached her from the base of the dais, bowing deeply with proud, puffed up chests and asking for a dance. Word had gone around about her… preferences, and far from dissuading suitors, it seemed to have been offered up as a challenge as to who could change her mind. Thank the gods Emerie had declined the invitation to join them. She would have castrated half these males in an instant, if Mor didn’t beat her to it.

Thesan, gratefully, put an end to it once he caught onto the pattern. One sharp look from him sent them scampering back, coattails between their legs.

There was one final male though who ignored the previous warnings, humbly bleeding out of the crowd as remnants of rose cake disappeared from the tables and the quartet swelled to include twelve musicians plus a singer. Full, cream-colored wings hovered above the ground, tawny-tipped and lush. Even Mor had to admit, with his olive skin, amber eyes, and warm honey curls he was stunning. Like liquid gold poured out of the setting sun.

He bowed deeply, a subtle smile on his face. Azriel went rigid, seeing you lean forward out of the corner of his eye with a blush coating your cheeks.

Mor closed her eyes and groaned. Fuuuuuuuck. That’s what she’d forgotten about. Or rather whom she’d forgotten about.

Naemon - the golden boy who’d begun to court you seven months back. You’d dropped his name only a handful of times in your letters to Mor. Not enough times to convince Mor you were actually taken with him, but enough times for her to remember the bastard’s name.

“Y/n,” His voice was silky smooth and kind, “May I have the first dance with you?” He asked politely.

Your breath caught in your throat and you risked a glance over at Azriel. He looked… bored and unaffected. He reached for his glass, looking more interested in the faerie wine than the male who’d just asked for your hand. It was stupid of you to think he would care for you as anything more than a friend, and even more foolish of you to think he might be jealous.

You pushed away from the table and floated down the dais, taking the strong and sturdy hand Naemon offered you. The first song was too spirited and quick to reveal any true feelings. It was a blur of silks and lean arms as you wove through the sea of dancers and were gently tossed from partner to partner. But the second song was slower, more intimate. Naemon flashed a look of gratitude to the singer, who winked in return, before scooping one arm around your waist, hand flat on the small of your back. You rested one hand on his shoulder, feeling the rolling of muscle beneath his crisp linen tunic, and held his free hand.

Naemon was a kind and gentle male. After the death of his parents, he’d all but raised his younger sister Namia on his own, relying on the money he earned in the Peregryn legion to make ends meet. It was his care for his sister that had first drawn him to you - any misgivings he’d had melting away as you grew close to Namia from among the other healers. You’d supported her throughout her pregnancy, become her friend, and served as a balm to his anxieties whenever his duties took him away for long stretches of time.

You looked down bashfully, apologizing for missing one of the dance steps and crushing his toe, “I’m better at the quicksteps.” You explained.

Naemon smiled brilliantly, and you couldn’t stop the faint flutter in your chest, “I can’t blame you. The slow ones can get boring. Leaves too much time for overthinking.”

“Exactly.” Too much time for overthinking about a certain Shadowsinger.

You’d never given Naemon any false pretenses about your feelings, always reminding him and Namia that your position in Dawn was temporary. But still… It felt nice to be courted by someone as open as him. With Naemon you never had to guess whether he wanted you or not - you knew he did. The flowers he often left in the healer’s temple, or the offers to take you out to dinner or to dances like this one proved it.

A curl of guilt coiled in your stomach. Maybe now was a good time to bow out and return to your seat. Surely the slow waltz would be finishing soon. The-

“You’re overthinking again.” Naemon said, his full lips brushing against the sharp curve of your ear and heating the gold cuffs you wore. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, Y/n. If you’re enjoying yourself - if you like dancing with me - keep doing it.”

“Naemon-” You began apologetically.

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about me, Y/n.” He said honestly, “I just want to dance with you tonight. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

You stared into his eyes, finding nothing but truth in them. A portion of your nerves melted away and you found that when the cello began to hum out a simple tune, you were still holding onto him and letting him move you through the next movements.

Azriel was barely holding on by a thread. Wine glass now empty and clenched dangerously between shadow covered hands. Rhys shot him a look, and when his attempts to breach his brother’s mental shields were met with resistance, he turned to Mor.

What’s wrong with him? His eyes flashed the question.

He’s being an ass who can’t come to terms with his emotions. Mor grumbled back, sinking into her seat with a fling of yellow-gold waves.

Rhys’s eyes went from confused to wide open as he shot a look to you across the dance floor. Fuck.

Feyre followed her mate’s attention with a look of concern, and then traced Azriel’s steely gaze to the dance floor where you were smiling reservedly up at Naemon. You two made a handsome couple, weaving a clear path through the other dancers as they parted for his magnificent feathered wings.

Azriel stiffened. He’d never been particularly proud of his Illyrian heritage, but his wings… his wings were one of the few true beauties he possessed. But in comparison to the golden-boy warrior that smiled at you and brushed back a loose strand of hair with his soft hands, Azriel found himself lacking… once again.

Naemon was a gentle breeze where Azriel was blistering wind. He was a wide open door, every look he gave you filled with clear affection. Azriel was a dozen locked boxes, each one nestled within the other with all the keys rusted and thrown away. Naemon looked reserved and in control. Azriel felt completely out of it, and it took every inch of willpower to keep the mating bond from driving him mad enough to launch across the dancefloor and bruise Naemon’s high, perfect cheekbones.

But then the dance ended and Naemon parted from you long enough to reach behind his back and pluck a feather from his wing. A few shocked gasps scattered throughout the room. Even Thesan and Herades looked on with raised eyebrows, leaning close enough to touch.

The feather was a beauty - the length of Naemon’s forearm and such a pure white it glimmered like moonlight. You froze, staring down at the treasure he offered you with bated breath.

Peregryns were fiercely protective of their wings and rightfully so. To be allowed near them alone was a great honor. To touch them was an intimate act reserved for family members and lovers. To be offered a feather?! In some circles it was akin to being gifted a thousand roses. In other circles it was tantamount to a marriage proposal.

Both offers were completely overwhelming to you.

“Naemon-” You began carefully, backing away, “I-I can’t.”

He smiled softly, eyes flashing briefly up to the dias where the Shadowsinger had gotten up to his feet, something like desperation and longing buried deep beneath the layers of his hazel eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, Y/n.” Naemon said resignedly, “But please, take this,” He begged, spreading open your fingers before curling them again around the feather, “For everything you’ve done for my family.”

And because I love you, even if you don’t love me back - were the words he didn’t say aloud.

“Naemon-” A shadow fell over your feet, curling around your ankles and skirts and tugging you away like a child seeking attention.

Naemon, for all his relative youth and gentle disposition, didn’t seem surprised or affected by the Shadowsinger’s presence. Azriel hovered close behind you, eyes blown open and desperate.

Please don’t. He silently begged. Please don’t say yes to him.

He almost melted with relief when Naemon only dipped his head in acknowledgement and kissed the palm of your hands. Even that innocent touch made Azriel’s stomach turn.

You turned when Naemon finally disappeared into the crowd. “Azriel, I-”

You had half a mind to hide the feather behind your back, but you couldn’t do such a cruel thing to Naemon. And it wasn’t like Azriel hadn’t watched the whole thing unfold in front of him. You clasped the feather in your hands, careful not to ruffle the delicate barbs.

Azriel was no longer bored and unaffected. In fact he seemed unnaturally flustered and nervous.

He swallowed thickly, mindful of the curious stares you were attracting. Not only had you just been proposed to, but now you were being approached by a male from your past after an ambiguous response - you’d accepted the feather, but Naemon had left alone. The court gossips would have a field day, if they weren’t already.

“Y/n,” He said, his voice thin and quiet. A mere whisper among the riff raff that was steadily building up again in a crescendo, “Can we please talk?” His wings fluttered nervously, and he shot a dangerous look at a male who came too close to you, “In private? Please?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. You’d barely recovered from Naemon’s dramatic display and you were scared about what Azriel might offer next.

Still you mumbled, “Oh-um… yes.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before Azriel’s hand was on your wrist, delicately leading you through the crowd towards the archway and into the hallway beyond. Fae mingled about in their finery, happy to escape the music and the sweep of dancers.

Azriel scowled. This was hardly any more private.

“My quarters are further down this hall,” You offered, pointing down a sky bridge that connected the public wings of the palace to the private ones. Azriel exhaled in relief, nodding and following you as you cut through unfamiliar halls draped in rich reds, golds, and turquoises.

You stopped at a door of solid oak, hand painted to look like it had been lifted from the pages of a storybook. Resplendent gold filigree traced the footsteps of maidens running along hills dense with colorful flora. Water trickled down from the mountain tops, so realistic that Azriel was amazed to find the handwoven carpets in your room were dry.

You peered down the hall before closing the door with a gentle whisper. Only the songbirds nesting in the high crevices bore witness to your activities.

You hesitated and then tucked the feather into one of the empty jewelry boxes on the vanity. Out of sight, but not out of mind.

Azriel stood motionless by the door, watching as you closed the box and slid it back against the mirror.

“Did you say yes?” He whispered, hating the way his voice caught in his throat, “Do you love him?”

You turned around quickly, the length of ribbon in your hair rippling through the air to land on your collarbone. Azriel was upon you in an instant close enough for you to feel his shallow breathing, but all he did was trace the blue ribbon with his fingers and then push it back over your shoulder.

“I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stuttered and your face burned with feeling. Azriel had asked you for privacy so he could ask you about Naemon?

Azriel clenched his fists once. Twice. “The male you were dancing with. The feather-”

You blushed deeply, turning your face away to hide your embarrassment. You had hoped he didn’t know about that Peregryn custom.

He gently gripped your chin with his thumb and forefinger, pulling your gaze back to him. You blinked in surprise. For once Azriel looked… scared.

“Did you say yes to him? Please. Tell me.”

If you had said yes he might just shrivel up into nothing on the spot. Why had he waited so long to tell you his feelings? Why had he waited so long to tell you about the bond? But if he did it now it would just be terrible timing all around. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You shook your head and Azriel’s wings dropped in relief, eyes closing as he murmured a quiet thanks to the Mother beneath his breath.

“He-it wasn’t even a real proposal. He gave it to me as thanks for helping his sister. That’s all.”

He gave you a pointed look like he knew you were lying. There was no questioning Naemon’s feelings for you. No questioning at all.

“You never answered my second question.”

You crumpled under his gaze. Gods, he looked beautiful tonight. Torturously so. It wasn’t fair. Naemon had loved you openly, never given you cause to doubt his intentions nor made you feel guilty for not returning his feelings. And yet here you were, still pining after the male who’d never seen you as more than a friend. A male whose intentions were never clear. A male who always made you question how well you knew him, and whether those small touches and reserved smiles and affectionate letters were just a polite kindness or something more.

“No.” It felt wrong of you to admit it so callously, even if it was the truth, “No I don’t love him.”

Azriel looked ready to kiss the ground and something about that set a fire within you. Leave it to Azriel to ignore any romantic advances from you, to chase after other females left and right for literal centuries, and then get upset the moment another male found you appealing.

You huffed, pushing him away harshly and crossing your arms over your chest, “It’s none of your business anyhow. I’m allowed to have my lovers and my almost lovers. And if you truly thought Naemon was proposing to me, I don’t know why you’d want to fucking interrupt it!”

Azriel flinched at the coldness in your voice, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it, Az?” You exclaimed, clearly irritated now, “Gods, you never just say what you mean.”

Azriel tried again, grasping at straws. “I would never judge you for your choices, even if you said yes to him or-I just-fuck.”

On any other day you’d be laughing. Azriel was a male of few words, but the words he did say were always perfect and calculated. Nothing about this was calculated or thought out.

“I… you’re my best friend, Y/n. And I haven’t seen you in over a year. I just…” He cringed. Hard. Cauldron boil him. He was doing this terribly, “I was scared.” He finally admitted, and rather pathetically.

“Scared?” You dropped your arms. That wasn’t the answer you’d been expecting, “Scared of what? You’re hardly ever afraid of anything.”

He shrank away, hands clasped tightly behind his back, “That you’d leave me-us. That you’d find a reason to stay here instead of returning to Velaris. And when I saw you dancing with him tonight - the way he was looking at you and the way you were looking at him - I thought… I thought Naemon would be that reason.”

Now you were confused and even more irate than before.

You stalked up to him, jabbing his chest with an accusatory finger, “You were the one who encouraged me to do this. You were the one constantly writing to me about the importance of making friends and “putting myself out there.” You were the one who practically shoved me out the door when I left-”

“Because I thought you wanted this!”

“I did! I-I do!”

“Then what was I supposed to do, Y/n?!” He cried out. His shadows, which had been held back so tightly on a leash throughout the night, exploded outward, coating the bright colors of your bedspread and the rugs and the curtains in inky black. They swirled there, as agitated and timid as their master.

“What was I supposed to do?” He whispered again. He sounded tired. Defeated. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t hold you back from what you wanted. From the happiness and opportunities you deserve.”

“You could’ve at least said something! You could’ve at least told me that you were upset with me leaving. That you were going to miss me and that you-you-”

That you love me and that you wanted me to stay. You shoved the thought out of your mind, slamming the door and turning the lock. Useless, lovestruck pipedreams would do you no good now.

“Instead you just pushed me out the door and it’s been nothing but empty letters from you since.”

“They weren’t empty.” Azriel said weakly. He’d never been a man of words or poetry, but in that moment he desperately wished he was. “And I did miss you. Y/n, I missed you so much some days it felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

You deflated, your anger slowly ebbing away like the ocean during low tide. Sometimes you forgot that beneath all those hard-won layers of shadow and muscle, Azriel was still that little boy that had been abandoned in a cellar and taught to believe he was worthless. A waste of time and a waste of space. Nothing more than an inconvenient bastard.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you were all doing fine. That I’d come back and it would be like nothing had ever changed. I would’ve-I would’ve made time to visit. Or-or come back sooner.”

Azriel chuckled without humour. He had not been “doing fine” without you. He hadn’t been “doing fine” since the moment you’d stepped across the doorway and winnowed out of Velaris.

“You make it sound like I was going away forever.” You added softly.

“It felt like it.” Azriel admitted quietly, “I always worried there was a chance you’d decide you liked things better in Dawn. That you liked the people better. So when I saw you with Naemon I just…” His voice trailed off and he slowly backed up to your bed, sinking down into the pillowy comforter. Even the beds seemed softer and kinder here. Softer and kinder than him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

He felt the bed dip beside him, your knee pressing against his in a burst of warmth. The blue tipped pleats of your dress slowly waved with his shadows as they once again curled around your feet, inching up your dress and closer and closer to your hands. Now that he was looking down he noticed the shoes you were wearing - cobalt blue with matching velvet ribbons tied up your calf. Same as your dress. Same as the ribbon in your hair.

“I wanted to believe you wore those colors for me tonight.” He said quietly, aching for your touch. Your hands were so close to his he could almost imagine that-

You covered his hands with your own, smoothing the rough skin with gentle caresses, “I did.”

It had seemed like such a stupidly hopeful choice at the time - some not-so-subtle declaration of love for all the months you’d spent apart - but when the seamstress had laid out all the dresses, you’d taken one look at the cobalt blue accents and the shoes and snatched them up in a heartbeat.

Azriel’s eyes were wider, more open, than the moon, shimmering with disbelief and hope, “You did?” He whispered.

“I did. They reminded me of you.” You stopped looking him in the eyes. It felt like too much. Too much emotion. Too much feeling. “I missed you too, you know.”

Azriel stayed quiet for a long while, sorting out the myriad of feelings roiling in his chest and trying to latch onto a single coherent thought. Finally he murmured, “I guess we could both work on saying things outright.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head and wiping at the corners of your eyes, “Yes. I guess we could.”

“We could start now.” Azriel offered hesitantly. His heart hammered away in his chest like a blacksmith at his anvil until he was sure his sternum would crack.

You raised your eyebrows. Curious.

“The next five minutes. We say everything honestly. No holding back.”

“I don’t know, Az. I-”

“Please.” He begged, holding onto your hands a little tighter. His shadows had traveled all the way up to your waist now, ghosting over flesh that he didn’t dare touch. He didn’t want to lose you. He’d thought he could handle being apart from you physically - that it would be no different from the decades he’d spent quietly loving you from right by your side - but he’d been horribly wrong. And he didn’t want to risk another, better male than Naemon coming to whisk you away before he had the chance to do things properly. To do things honestly.

His hands were shaking now, gripping your hands like you were the anchor to his ship trapped in raging waters, “I’ll start.”

“Ok.” You whispered, leaning a little closer.

Azriel swallowed and tried to stop the trembling in his hands and in his voice. In this he managed quite well, falling into a rigid, flat silence.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for years now, actually.” He dared to look at you. Your lips were parted in shock and he wished he could taste them, “Is that…is that ok?”

“Is that ok?” You repeated dumbly. “Is that ok?” You repeated a little louder, “Are you serious, Azriel?”

“Y-Yes?” He was trembling again, face open and terrified. He was offering you up his heart on a platter and praying to the Mother you wouldn’t crush it beneath those velvet blue shoes. Even if you did, he would find some solace in knowing you were the one to destroy him. He loved you so dearly that it was only within your right to do so.

Your lips broke in a stuttered smile, opening and closing like you didn’t quite know what to do. “I never thought I’d hear you say that. I’d hoped you might feel that way but I… I was never sure. I…” You cradled his face in your hands, tracing the curve of his jaw and his cheekbones with your fingertips, “I love you too, Azriel. I love you so much.” Your voice cracked, silver gathering in your eyes no matter how fiercely you tried to blink them away, “Gods, Az, you don’t even know.”

He gripped you close enough enough to bruise, arms locked around your waist and hands laid flat on your back. It was a sweet pain that grew even sweeter when you kissed him, searching for breath like you’d find it in his lungs. Azriel was just as desperate, ravenous even as he tugged at your clothes and flipped you flat on the bed. He wanted your lips again. You tasted like strawberries and cream, and he was starving.

He climbed on top, slotting himself between your legs as you yanked him close.

“Your hair,” You muttered, “It’s too neat.” The next minute was all teeth from Azriel as you mussed up his hair and he grinned wildly against your lips.

“Five-” He groaned, sinking further into you when you wrapped your legs around his waist, “Five minutes aren’t-” He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at your flushed face as you gasped for breath and finally untangled your hands from his hair, “Five minutes aren’t up yet.”

“You’ve been keeping track?” You dropped your head back on the bed with a disgruntled hmph. Had he been counting the whole time he’d been kissing you?

He kissed your chest, then the sensitive skin of your neck. But there wasn’t any expectation in the brush of his lips, just quiet, honest love.

You raised your head, finding that Azriel once again looked scared. “There’s something else I need to tell you.” He said seriously. “Before… before anything else.”

You drew yourself onto your elbows, craning your neck for one more kiss, “You can tell me, Az. You can tell me anything.”

The bond sang in his chest like a songbird in a cage. It wanted to be released. To be acknowledged in words if it couldn’t be acknowledged through feeling at this moment. Because Azriel knew you didn’t feel it yet. You didn’t feel the burning he felt in his chest that made it hard to breathe when you weren’t around.

What if she doesn’t want this? What if she doesn’t want me? Azriel swallowed thickly, tears springing into his eyes. He wanted so desperately to be worthy of you - to be the kind and gentle lover and mate that you deserved. He’d been born crooked even before he’d been tossed into that cellar, before his half-brothers had set his hands on fire. But… but he was yours completely. He’d offer whatever meager, broken shards of himself that he could in hopes it might be enough.

“Az,” You whispered his name lovingly and slid a wayward curl behind his ear so gently he thought he might break apart into a million pieces, “Tell me. Please. Tell me.”

“You’re my mate.” He confessed.

The words hung in the air, unaccepted, unrejected, and you went preternaturally still.

He had no feathers to pluck out and present to you. But he had his shadows. You tipped your head curiously to the side when Azriel knelt on the ground, holding your hand in his.

“I don’t have any pure white feathers. I don’t even have a ring on me right now-”

“Az, you don’t need to-” You stilled when a shadow flickered down Azriel’s wrist onto yours. It was a small, delicate thing. Willful too. You could tell by the way it traveled confidently down your ring finger, curling there tastefully like a castle spire reaching towards the sky.

It hovered over your skin like mist hanging over wetlands. A proposal in and of itself.

“Yes.” You said before Azriel could open his mouth again. He hesitated, afraid to believe he’d heard you correctly, “Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” He teased weakly.

But this time you knew exactly what he meant, even if he didn’t say it out loud.

The bond burst to life in your chest as the shadow sank into your skin, settling there like a tattoo. Like a promise.

Azriel stumbled, actually stumbled, clenching at his chest at the wildness growing within him. He chased after you, hurtling down the bond and finding you wide open on the other side. You were anxious and surprised and so so so happy. So happy you felt like you might just die from it, and Azriel felt it all.

Hello, Y/n. He called out.

Hello, Azriel. You responded. My mate.

Azriel groaned, slamming his lips and his body against yours. You held steady as you always did, letting him press against you as if you could keep him there forever.

I am yours and you are mine. You gripped his hair again, feeling the silky strands caress your skin. With one smooth motion he pulled out the ribbon and started to undo the buttons of your dress.

Promise?

You grinned. Promise.

___________

Author's note:

Nothing like a declaration of love after a year spent apart to make my heart swoon.

But honestly I would have fallen in love with Naemon... sorry Az...

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar azriel #azriel fic #jealous azriel #fluff #angst #azriel x reader angst #acotar #acotar oneshot #acotar fanfic

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theyluvkarolina · 3 months

Text

𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` he saved my goldfish from a burning house. trust. ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Sometimes love makes you act stupid. luckily, the f1 community has Logan’s back to help him with his crush.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Logan Sargent x Supermodel!Reader

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 ୨୧ some photos are of the beautiful madison beer!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ none!

INSTAGRAM

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln I’m so honored to be a part of Williams this race! Looking forward to more in the future! 🫶🩵

1,234 comments

username1 wtf bro she's stunning 😭

username2 they could have picked someone actually important but noooo they chose some model 🙄

username3 I came be the only one that saw how mesmerized Logan was looking at her...

williamsracing So happy to have you! You're welcoming anytime!

*liked by therealyn_ln!*

logansargeant happy to have you join us! come back anytime, I'll be happy to show you around Miami! 🙂

→ username4 LOGAN SHOOTING HIS SHOT??? → username5 bro sounds too proper 💀 → username6 I know he was shaking while typing that → therealyn_ln is that an offer or a promise? → logansargeant why not both?

IMESSAGES

**correction: “IT’S HARD ENOUGH WITH HER BEING SO PRETTY, BUT HER BEING SWEET TOO? I WAS SO NERVOUS

TWITTER

IMESSAGES

INSTGRAM

therealyn_ln has added a new story!

therealyn_ln

📍 miami, florida, usa

therealyn_ln It’s fun having your personal tour guide :)

2,143 comments

username7 WHO IS THAT MAN???

username8 we lost her guys 😔😔

username9 logan and y/n collaboration????

logansargeant should have used sunscreen

→ therealy/n_ln hey, it’s not my fault the nyc weather got to me :((

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln back to the paddock! 🏁 as logan promised, I was in fact shown around the miami track! (ps. I took his sunscreen advice!)

tagged ; logansargeant

1,783 comments

username10 they are so sweet :((

username11 pls tell me they will date

logansargeant glad you learned from the original florida man

→ therealyn_ln correction, florida BOY → logansargeant rude 🤕

logansargeant

logansargeant Not the result we wanted.. but we will bounce back! 👊 Thank you to all the fans for the constant support!

tagged ; therealyn_ln

1,694 comments

username12 “fans” it’s just y/n lol

therealyn_ln i thought we talked about using these kinds of photos bestie logan…

→ logansargeant never call me that again… → therealyn_ln can’t make any guarentees 🙃

TWITTER

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therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln pasta night was a flop… so we got chick-fil-a!

tagged ; logansargeant

1,853 comments

landonorris @therealyn_ln logan let Max win the season, trust 🙏🙏

→ logansargeant i did??

username13 @therealyn_ln he saved my goldfish from a burning house. trust. 🙏

username14 @therealyn_ln logan saved my family from an airplane crash, trust me fr 🙏

oscarpiastri @therealyn_ln logan gave america it’s first f1 points in 30 years, he’s that good 🙏

→ logansargeant not you too oscar pastry 😞 → oscarpiastri i take that back, you killed my koala 👎 → username15 HELLO????

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln guys, logan stole my heart and still hasn’t given it back 😞

tagged ; logansargeant

1,990 comments

username15 OML FINALLY A FIRST DATE

username16 OUR PRAYERS WERE ANSWERED 🙏

oscarpiastri thank god, i had enough of logan’s fan girling every day

AUTHORS NOTE : first post ✔️ thank you sm for reading! Definitely not my best, but not bad for my first post! always hoping to improve :)

also, sorry about all the spelling mistakes! i really need to improve on them 😅

have a wonderful day lovelies 🩶

#f1 x reader #logan sargeant #formula 1 #☆ﾟ smau ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #oscar piastri #f1 smau #f1 social media au #logan sargent x reader #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x #☆ﾟ user ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝

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houseofevanbuckley · 3 days

Text

The thing about boyfriends is that Buck never had one. He has been one to others but never got his own, and now Tommy and he are around 15 dates. They’ve met each other’s friends and colleagues.

Buck met Tommy’s brother because the man crashed one of their date at Tommy’s place without knowing. Tommy met Maddie and only saw his parents from afar at the wedding, which Buck was immensely happy about.

They’re dating and it’s good, so good actually.

He thinks if he was dating a girl he’d be her boyfriend now, but is Tommy his? Is it the same for queer relationships?

Buck is just getting into his own head. He knows what he wants to call Tommy, but can he? Should he talk about it?

He never really had that kind of talk. He always became the boyfriend after the 2/3 months period, often the “I’m not seeing anyone other than you” talk would mean that by itself.

And they had that talk with Tommy, they actually had that talk two weeks in, but they still haven’t had the talk or met anybody where one of them called the other their boyfriends.

But now, they just came across Taylor while walking around and she’s talking, asking questions about his life and how he is and Tommy is awkwardly standing by.

“Oh, it’s been good, uh, you know life,” stutters Buck, “hum, just… that’s Tommy by the way, uh, my …friend.”

And Tommy is just raising an eyebrow, not saying anything.

Taylor quickly moves on and leave them alone and Buck doesn’t dare look at Tommy for fear of what he’ll see here.

He knows now, he saw the reaction “friend” caused. He has a boyfriend, and he wants to run back to Taylor and tell her and fix it and …

“So…” says Tommy, “friends, uh?”

Buck winces and finally looks at Tommy, who just looks back at him, lips a little pursed, but his eyes don’t look like he’s angry.

“Didn’t know you let ‘friends’ do what I did to you yesterday. Should I have a talk with Chimney and Eddie?”

Buck feels his face heat, thinking about how Tommy took him apart with his tongue for almost a full hour yesterday and actually making him beg.

He can’t even answer to that.

“Also, do friends have to have a drawer in each other places? Because I think I should reclaim the space that you stole from me, ‘friend’ ' “ he says with a smile, and Buck finally realizes it is just teasing.

Tommy’s eyes have that little shine they get when he just jokes around, his eyes squinting a little and his lips quirking.

“Ugh, you’re such an ass. I don’t know why I like you.”

“Careful, that’s not a way to speak to your friends.“

And Buck just, he just can’t with that man and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s not the first time they kiss outside, where people can see, but it’s still as exhilarating as the first.

“I told you,” Tommy says after the kiss, soft smile on, “we’re going at your pace. If you want me to just be your friends to random people in the street, it’s ok.”

“What if I don’t want it? Maybe…” he stops and swallows, “maybe I want to call you my boyfriend.”

Tommy’s smile is blinding before he bends a little to kiss him, fingers under his chin like he does so often, reminding them both of their first kiss.

“I’d be honored to be your boyfriend Evan.”

#bucktommy #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #tommy x buck #911 abc #tevan #evan buck buckley #buck and tommy #kinley #boyfriends being boyfriends #evan x tommy #tommybuck

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inbarfink · 7 months

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Okay, so here is my Thought…

It’s already being established that the majority of worlds in the AT Multiverse are born from wishes granted by Prismo. I mean, we know there are other types of alternative universes (Like Flapjack’s universe) - but Prismo’s exposition implies they are the exceptions and not the rule. And we already know the Wish that birthed Farmworld, and we even got a Word of God about Babyworld (a Wish made by BMO) but…

Was Winterworld also born from someone’s wish?

While first watching the episode, I was wondering if that was a universe born from Ice King’s wish to, like, make Princess Bubblegum madly in love with him or something. But after all of the reveals at the end of the episode and thinking about it a bit more - I feel like this is unlikely.

I mean for once, there is the question of how the ‘One Wish Per Person' rule works with the existence of a multiverse. Because we know our Simon also tried using his Prismo Wish

(And from their interactions in Episode 4 it seems like Prismo considers Ice King and Simon to be the same person, So a Wish made by Ice King would also count as the one Wish for Simon)

So like… if Ice King made a Wish with Prismo and then got teleported into Winterworld where his wish was granted and then like… a duplicate of him keeps going in Mainworld Ooo and that one’s actually the Simon we follow… would that Simon get his own Wish from Prismo? Or would the Winter King count as the separate Simon who didn’t waste his Wish yet? Finn has already used up his own Wish but his situation is kinda unique cause he, like, came back from being Farmworld Finn. I’m not sure about the rules here but I’m feeling like it shouldn’t work, Simon used up his one Wish failing to bring Betty back so that means he probably didn’t wish up Winterworld.

I don’t feel super-confident about that, but I feel a bit more sure of this next observation; Prismo says that the Wishes he grants, whatever he wants them to or not, always have some sort of a Monkey’s Paw or ironic twist thing going on. They never go quite right for the Wisher. And the Winter King was doing extremely well until our Free Radicals came along.

I mean… maybe the fact that Pre-Curse Simon would’ve been disgusted with the Winter King’s actions counts. Or maybe the implication is that with the Candy Queen’s recent ‘escalation’ he would’ve been killed sooner or later even without the Multiverse Trio’s intervention.

But… compared to how throughly and how quickly Farmworld went badly for Finn specifically- that honestly feels like a stretch. I think that if Winterworld was born from the Wish of any character - it was most likely Marceline.

She has all the motivation to Wish for Simon to have his memories and/or sanity back - and had it for the longest time out of all of his acquaintances. And if it was her Wish - then it sure as hell has gone extremely wrong for her.

The woman that she loves has been doomed to the same torturous existence Simon has been trapped in alongside her entire kingdom. And Simon might have his sanity and identity again, but this vile man who willingly and knowingly condemned PB to a life of suffering in his stead is so much farther away from the kindly father figure Marceline remembers than Ice King the crazy old Wizard ever was.

And then he also stole Marceline's most beloved personal possessions and like… probably killed her and definitely replaced her with an icy duplicate who is forever the child he wants her to be. If this Wish is some sort of Ironic Monkey's Paw to anyone, I think Marceline makes the most sense.

(I will give an honorable mention to Betty, because she also very much has the motivation and it is kinda weird we haven’t seen her try and save Simon with a Prismo wish. But I think that while, like, dying in the Mushroom War unmourned and unremembered by the man you did all of this for is a pretty miserable fate.... I still think that Marceline’s narrative fits the idea of cruel irony a lot better)

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juanarc-thethird · 3 months

Text

Indiana Jaune.

The famous explorer Dr. Jaune Arc is in trouble. He was caught by a tribe of Amazon women. He was arrested by the tribe's champion, Eve Taurus, and dragged before the chief, Sienna Khan. Where he will be judged for his crime: Taking their sacred Idol.

Eve: I brought the thief, chief.

She pushes him in front of sienna.

Jaune: *Falls to the ground* Ugh!

Sienna (chief): Jaune Arc, you were caught in the act stealing our sacred Idol. How do you respond to this accusation?

Jaune: *Stands up* Innocent!

Eve: Liar!

Sienna: Eve, let him speak. Why do you claim to be innocent?

Jaune: That artifact does not belong to your tribe. It was stolen from the sacred temple in the volcano and now it will erupt at any moment unless we return the Idol to its respective place.

Eve: Chief, you can't possibly believe that! He is a-!

Sienna: Silence! *Sighs* Your words have some truth in them. After we acquired the artifact, the land where we live has become hostile to us.

Eve: But that doesn't change the fact that he stole from us, a tribe that welcomed him with open arms!

Sienna: My champion is right. Stealing, no matter the circumstances, remains a serious crime in my tribe.

Jaune: I understand, and I beg your forgiveness. Since what I did was not a selfish act, but an act to save this tribe and the creatures that live in this jungle.

Sienna: You are honorable, I can see that. But my tribe will demand compensation.

Jaune: I understand. I will accept any punishment, but we have to return that Idol now.

Sienna: Anything huh…. *Looks at him up and down* I think we can reach an agreement. *She smiles*

Eve: *Evil smile* Oooh ho ho, you're so...

-------------

Eve: *Heart eye* FUCK!!~💕

Eve is lying face down, while Jaune fucks her along with the help of Sienna. She is pushing his hips towards Eve, by dropping her weight on top of him. Leaving Jaune in the middle of an Amazon sanwich.

Jaune: Oh god~💕 How long do I have to do this?

Sienna: Until every woman in the tribe becomes pregnant. After all, the idol you took was of fertility.

Jaune: But I... But I-!... Oh FUCK!!!~💕

*SPLURT!!*

Eve: 💕Oh GOD!!💕 He is filling me all up!~💕

Sienna: Good boy, now on to the next one.

#jaune arc #jaune #rwby jaune arc #rwby jaune #sienna #rwby sienna khan #rwby sienna #Sienna khan #rwby eve taurus #eve taurus #rwby eve #rwby #rwby shitpost #rwby smut #rwby lemon

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leonslutkennedeeznuts · 7 months

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Lovin' Your Skin | Tattoo Artist!Leon x Fem!Reader

"With that, Leon flexed his arms so you could get a better look. He was covered in ink. You wanted to spend all day and night tracing your fingers over the works of art inked onto his skin, hearing his stories about what each tattoo represented." (AO3) | Tattoo Artist Leon credit: tanya.gavva

You didn’t even want a tattoo but you figured it wouldn’t be that bad. Your pain tolerance was low, you weren’t 100% certain the design you’d picked would look good on your skin forever but Leon was sooo gorgeous. Just to be near him in the tattoo parlor for a few hours would make everything so worth it. Or so you’d thought.

Leon was covered in tattoos. He had sleeves on both arms and you could see the beginning of a neck piece as you stole a few glances at him here and there. He was so focused the few times you’d gone by the shop to watch him work. He was your friend’s tattoo artist. This was all her fault really. Months ago she’d asked you to come by with her for yet another tattoo and when you’d seen the blonde haired beauty of a man who did the work, you were head over heels.

“Name’s Leon,” he’d said as he shook your hand.

Leon. A name you wanted to be screaming every night.

“What makes you want a tattoo,” he’d asked you as your friend checked out her finished piece in the mirror behind him. “It can be addicting, I must warn you.”

You didn’t want a tattoo. You wanted him. Same difference.

“Always thought about it,” you lied, awkwardly laughing. You hoped he couldn’t read the lust on your face as you caught a glimpse of him licking his lips. “Yours look really cool, very intricate.”

With that, Leon flexed his arms so you could get a better look. He was covered in ink. You wanted to spend all day and night tracing your fingers over the works of art inked onto his skin, hearing his stories about what each tattoo represented.

“Wow,” you whispered, stepping closer to get a better look. “You did these all yourself?”

Leon shook his head. “Most but not all. Couldn’t reach my back but I designed that piece myself.” He winked at you before asking. “You want to see it?”

It was pathetic how fast you shook your head yes. Leon’s body was a work of art in itself. He made a little show of taking his shirt off for you, your friend laughing and shaking her head in the background still eying her own ink. How she was immune to Leon’s charm and sex appeal was beyond you.

Leon had a rose tattoo that started the sleeve on his right shoulder, in honor of his grandmother he’d said, that led into abstract shapes, you spied a spiderweb on his elbow and even a sea turtle on his inner arm, an Eagle on his neck- you stopped trying to decipher everything and started to take in the view of his abs. He’d been getting tattooed since his 21st birthday, something he’d done with his friends on a drunken dare after failing out of the police academy but quickly discovered his love of the profession.

After opening his first tattoo shop at 27, he started designing and doing his own tattoos as best as he could to promote his business. Now he was booked up months in advance. He always made time for your friend though.

His chest wasn’t covered yet, he’d mentioned thinking of leaving that bare for now. You imagined how your hands would rest perfectly on his pecs as you rode him into oblivion.

Leon caught you staring, you weren’t really hiding it. You wondered if he was tatted up from the waist down as well, how your untouched flesh would look against his in the heat of passion, how you wanted his name breathlessly leaving your lips-

“Do you want a tattoo, seriously?” Your friend’s voice cut through the sexual tension like a knife. “I think she’s lying, Leon.”

“No, I’m serious! I do want one. I have a Pinterest board of ideas,” you spat out hurriedly. “Here,” you said, lifting up your sleeve to show the spot on your wrist where you wanted to be inked.

Leon, still shirtless, took your wrist into his hands, eying it and you. “A wrist tat, hmm? I’d be honored to be your first,” he’d simply stated. Still shirtless. Still eyeing you in disbelief.

If he wanted to call your bluff, so be it as long as he was calling you.

“Yep and maybe a neck one too, ya know, one that people can’t see unless I wear my hair up.”

Your friend rolled her eyes and began to grab her purse and car keys. From what you’d seen her tattoo was beautiful, a bright Koi fish on her left shoulder to match the aquatic sleeve she was getting done eventually.

“I will believe it when I see it, Y/N. Don’t waste Leon’s time just because you think he’s hot,” she chided jokingly as she went to the door.

Leon put his tank top back on and handed you one of his business cards, letting his fingers linger on yours for a bit too long to be an accident.

“Well, Y/N, if you’re serious here’s my contact information. I don’t have any openings really in the next few months but text me and I will see what I can do for you.” He winked at you again. “Want to see this Pinterest board of yours.”

“Oh, right, totally! I’ll send you the link.” Great, now you had to create a Pinterest board of tattoos that you hoped Leon thought were cool. Your eyes lingered to the perfect pout of his lips then to his cerulean eyes. “I can’t wait to set up my appointment with you, Leon.”

You weren’t planning to actually get a tattoo. You just wanted a way to talk to him really and the guy owned a tattoo shop, clearly that was something he was passionate about. What better way to get his attention than to get him to tattoo you himself? Right?

—-------

It was Leon that actually called you first.

After that evening in his shop, you realized that if you did reach out to him that it would be obvious you weren’t really serious about all this. You were sure women flocked at him all the time with lies about tattoos to get him in their bed. You wouldn’t be the first.

Your friend was no help. She claimed that Leon either had a girlfriend already or was hooking up with a fellow artist at another shop.

“Her name starts with J, I think,” she’d said deep in thought. “Or maybe it’s the redhead biker chick from that bar.”

But you forgot all about that when you got a call from an unknown number a few days later.

“Leon?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he confirmed with a slight chuckle. “I never heard back from you about the tattoo, was wondering if you changed your mind about seeing me.”

You always wanted to see him. From the few times you’d met he had an effect on you but he was a huge flirt. Maybe he was just trying to get a new client aka more money, nothing personal.

“Oh, I- the tattoo,” you sighed and decided to come clean. “Look, Leon, I don’t know about that anymore.”

“Understandable, I honestly figured as much.” You heard some faint background noise of a horror movie playing in the background. Seems like he was home alone on a Friday night too.

“Well, in the spirit of being honest, Y/N, I was hoping to just see you again. Tattoo or not.”

You almost dropped your phone in shock. You didn’t know what you thought Leon’s type was but it definitely wasn’t you. He seemed like a total badass, a bad boy. You were a goody two shoes overachiever working a boring 9-5 while Leon was a daredevil risk taker.

Plus you were pretty sure Leon was a little over six years older than you. Which made his admission all the more arousing. You couldn’t help the throbbing you felt between your legs now.

“Cat got your tongue,” he teased, clearly enjoying this.

“No, I’m just kind of shocked,” you admitted. “I didn’t think I was your type really.”

You thought back to the women your friend had mentioned Leon dated. You’d seen them both in passing, looked nothing like you (or one another) but they were gorgeous. You felt so basic by comparison.

Leon was silent for a bit, you almost thought he’d hung up before you heard him clear his throat. “Hmm, how about I take you out tomorrow night and show you how much of my type you are?”

It was a date.

—-------

You don’t know exactly how this happened. One minute you were agreeing to let Leon walk you to your apartment door and the next he had you wet and begging for him to fuck you, his lips on your neck definitely leaving hickeys for everyone to see that you were his. The date had gone very well to your surprise and now it was about to get even better.

First thing you noticed about Leon was that he was an amazing kisser. His hands were feeling you up all over, just enough to get you hot and bothered and leaning into his embrace silently begging for more. He sucked your tongue and grinded into you, almost dry humping on the couch before you couldn’t take anymore and told him where your bedroom was.

Leon was an animal in bed and yet still a total gentleman, which you kind of expected but nothing prepared you for the real thing. He didn’t have tattoos from the waist down, and yes you looked quite thoroughly while you were down there with his dick sliding down your throat.

You’d never enjoyed giving head before tonight, before you’d met Leon and heard his whispers, groans and moans as you sucked him. At this angle, he was able to play with your pussy and rub your clit as you licked his pre-cum covered tip before attempting to deep throat him again.

“Fuck, Y/N, so good, you’re such a good girl,” he moaned. He slipped a finger, then another into your wet pussy. “Mmm, so tight, baby.”

You couldn’t talk if you wanted to with him so deep in your mouth but you moaned around his cock, causing him to cuss under his breath and pull out completely, not wanting to cum just yet. He rubbed his shaft on your swollen lips, your mouth almost desperately trying to suck him back in.

Leon took his fingers out of your pussy and sucked on them. “Gonna enjoy eating you out,” he whispered, kissing his way down to finally taste you. “I won’t stop until you cum.”

You could’ve finished right then and there just hearing him say that. When his tongue licked your center then up to your clit, you almost screamed. It felt so good, too good. You didn’t think you were going to last long at all. Seeing Leon’s gorgeous flush face clearly enjoying the taste of you was already too much and he’d only just started.

He held you by the back of your knees, pressing them into your chest as he licked, sucked and ate you like a man starving. You’d never cum from this before, never had someone so into it. You were squirming and bucking into his mouth earning more moans from him. When his tongue dipped into your pussy you did scream, his name leaving your lips over and over as you squealed and released onto his tongue.

“Leon, I’m cumming,” you whined in an almost broken voice, your toes curling and your eyes rolling back into your head. “Oh fuck, too much,” you begged, trying to wiggle out of his grasp to no avail as he kept licking you, refusing to waste a drop of your cum. “Leon, please.”

When Leon said he wouldn’t stop until you came, what he really meant was that he wouldn’t stop until you came twice. Despite the cramp in your legs you gripped his blond hair so hard you knew it was painful for him but he didn’t seem to mind, sucking and tonguing your pussy with more vigor than before.

He slid two fingers back into your pussy and you almost accidentally kicked him due to overstimulation. You were almost boohoo crying as Leon was just eating you out without a care in the world. You had no idea what you’d do when he finally fucked you, your nails clawing up his tattooed back leaving your own imprint on his skin even if it didn’t last forever.

Leon moaned and hummed against your cunt knowing how close you were again already. “Cum for me again, Y/N.” After a few more thrusts of his fingers against your g-spot you were seeing stars. “Now.”

This time you were sure the neighbors heard you. You’d be embarrassed at how pitiful you sounded later because right now you were in the throes of passion. Leon held you down with no effort as your body jerked and bucked against his eager mouth.

Nobody had ever made you cum this hard, reducing you into a blubbering mess, begging Leon to fuck you as your sweet cum covered his mouth and jaw.

“Holy shit,” you managed to breathe out when he finally freed you from his grasp. You didn’t know if you were floating or still laying on the bed at this point. If he told you it was Christmas day you’d believe him, your mind was so frazzled. “Fucking Christ, Leon.”

His Cheshire cat grin appeared above you, eying you with pure lust and pride. Leon had never been with someone so vocal before, it definitely stroked his ego.

“Believe me now?” Leon didn’t wait for you to respond before rubbing the tip of his cock against your almost sore clit.

“How about now,” he teasingly asked before slapping his shaft on your pussy.

He was so hard, almost painfully so. He’d wanted you since the first time you’d met but figured you weren’t into guys with tattoos. Go figure.

“Leon, please, just fuck me already,” you begged. You arched your back into his embrace, staring into his eyes as kept teasing you. “I’ll believe you when you fuck me.”

You knew Leon wasn’t going to be a missionary kind of guy, nothing wrong with that position but after having it so often with your lackluster ex, you wanted something a bit more. Being folded like a pretzel on the edge of your bed as Leon slid into you, his thick cock hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering- just what the doctor ordered.

With a pillow under your head you had the perfect view to watch Leon fuck you hard, deep and fast. Your slick was covering his cock, the sounds of your wetness and his balls slapping against your ass the soundtrack of your fuck session as the mattress creaked underneath you.

He was caressing your bouncing tits, squeezing and pinching your hard nipples just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to push you over just yet. You could barely decipher what you were even saying, just heavy breathing, squeaking and squealing Leon’s name over and over, praising and thanking him.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart,” you heard him whisper above you. Leon was in awe at the sight of your tight, little pussy creaming on his cock. He made sure to get you nice and wet so you could take him all without pain. “Fuck, Y/N, I want to fill you up.”

You gripped his tattooed arms to stay grounded to reality as your orgasm crept up on you, trying to memorize every piece of ink on his flesh in case this was a one time thing- in case you were actually dreaming and he wasn’t really here with you.

“Yeah, cum in me, Leon,” you heard yourself saying. It was like an out of body experience. You honestly felt like you’d disintegrate when you finally came on his fat dick. “It’s your pussy, baby. Only yours.”

Leon thrust into you slowly as you both came hard, bodies shaking and aching as you messily kissed one another, hands roaming all over while Leon grunted and came inside of you. You made sure to rub and caress his back as he did so, enjoying how he gave into your embrace as he filled you up until his cum began dripping out.

You still weren’t sold on getting a tattoo any time soon but dating a tattoo artist who was a beast in bed wasn’t the worst thing ever, you figured as sleep took over you both.

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larluce · 2 months

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Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-availablea , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 Since you asked for Arthur and Merlin to still be oblivious for series 2 ;)

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 (You're here) , PART 12

In "The Curse of Cornelius Sigan"

Arthur: (falls of his horse)

Merlin: Arthur! (Goes to him worried)

Arthur: I’m fine (stands up)

Merlin: (checks Arthur for injuries, anxiously)

Arthur: (smiles and stops Merlin by the shoulders, gently) Merlin, I’m fine, really.

Merlin: I’m sorry. I did that girth up myself. I don’t know how-

Cedric: (appears bringing back the horse) Would you like me to fit the girth properly for you, sire.

Merlin: (Kills him with his eyes)

Arthur: (realises it was him who sabotaged Merlin the first time but decides to play along for now) Thank you.

Cedric: (makes a bow) It is an honor to be of service to the Prince.

Arthur: And not an honor everyone can have. Right, Merlin?

Merlin: (dryly) Right.

Cedric: Allow me the honor of brushing your clothes down- (is about to touch Arthur’s clothes but Merlin grabs his arm midair)

Merlin: (smiles politely, but his grip is strong) I can do that myself, you don’t have to worry.

Cedric: (pulls his arm free, taken aback, but turns to Arthur) Anything else I can do for you, sire?

Arthur: (between bewildered and pleased with Merlin’s reaction) Thank you, but my servant has everything under control.

Merlin: (brushes Arthur’s clothes and gives Cedric a very smug smile)

Cedric: (thinking) The little shit. (forces a smile). In fact, I’ve come to Camelot in search of work. It would mean everything to me to have the pleasure to work at the castle near your highness.

Merlin: (coldly, after he finishes brushing Arthur’s clothes) There is a procedure for that.

Arthur: Merlin, it’s okay. (to Cedric) What’s your name?

Cedric: (makes another bow) Cedric, your highness.

Arthur: Cedric. We’re short of a man or two in the stables. You can start there. (gets on his horse) Merlin?

Merlin: (gets on his horse too and they leave together)

Cedric: …

Cedric: The servant has his own horse?! 😨

Time skip. Later in the stables.

Arthur: (furious) You fell asleep? That’s your excuse?

Cedric: (scared) I didn’t mean to-

Arthur: To what? To lose ALL the horses?

Merlin: (enters) Sire. Don’t be too hard on him. He's just tired.

Arthur: On his first day?

Cedric: Sire, please-

Arthur: Enough! You’re fired. (leaves but shouts from outside) Merlin!

Merlin: (cheerfully) I’ll go in a moment, sire! (looks at Cedric, his face turning serious)

Cedric: I did not fall asleep.

Merlin: No, you did not (throws the cloth that had Cedric’s sleeping draught at him). Thank you for the trick though, it’s quite effective.

Cedric: (angered) You stole it from me!

Merlin: Says the thief. (shakes his head and gives him a sack with treasure of Sigan’s tomb) Here, I hope that’s enough for you.

Cedric: (confused)… what?

Merlin: You wanted jewels, gold? There they are. Now leave Camelot and don’t come back.

Cedric: You think I’m stupid? I know there’s more in that tomb!

Merlin: Don’t be greedy. I'm doing you a favor. Or you leave with your hands full or be arrested for theft. You choose.

Cedric: I can tell the Prince you stole that. You’ll lose your job.

Merlin: Go ahead. Tell him and let’s see who he believes.

Cedric: …

Merlin: That’s what I thought. (threatens) I expect you to be gone by noon. (leaves)

Time skip. Cedric in the woods alone counting his treasure, happily.

Arthur: (appears out of nowhere) Where did you get that?

Cedric: (nervous) ¡Ah! Sire, what a nice surprise… seeing you here. 😅

Arthur: (approaches threateningly, raising his sword) You stole from me.

Cedric: (steps back, hands up, frightened) No! Merlin, your servant, he-

Arthur: And now you want to blame my personal manservant.

Cedric: No! I would never! I-

Arthur: (barely contained fury) You tried to sabotage my servant and almost liberated the ghost of a dangerous sorcerer putting all Camelot at risk… (pointing the sack with treasure). Just for this?

Cedric: (on his knees, begging) I’m so sorry, your highness! Please forgive me!

Arthur: I would. But you see… (runs him through with his sword) I still need 283.

...

Do you find confusing that I'm writing kind of in disorder? If you do, please let me know. Also, I'm open to ideas as always :D. Love you.

#merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #merlin prompt #merthur fic #arthur and merlin #merlin and arthur #merthur prompt #Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

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mcflymemes · 2 months

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PROMPTS FROM THE MANDALORIAN SEASON 1 * assorted lines from a few of the first episodes, adjust as necessary

i can bring you in warm, or i can bring you in cold.

it's not slow at all, actually.

this is all i have.

i'll take them all.

sadly, we'll never know.

oh, this feels a lot better.

"stay off the ice." that's the understatement of the millennium!

now we just need to get the door open.

that's all you can give me?

save the theatrics.

that was fast. did you catch them all?

they do not belong here.

can we talk about this later?

i have a suggestion.

so much for the element of surprise.

that is not what we agreed upon.

i'm simply being pragmatic.

you know, you're not so bad.

i don't have time for this.

well, then i don't know if i want your help.

i like those odds.

this is gonna take days to fix.

they don't like you for some reason.

they stole from me.

i'm surprised you waited.

explain it to me again. i still don't understand what happened.

i can't thank you enough.

this is what was causing all the fuss?

i will take you to them.

i gotta get one of those.

how do i know i can trust you?

why would an enemy help you in battle?

get out of here! we'll hold 'em off!

i'm not interested in your excuses.

that would be a great honor.

any idea what they're gonna do with it?

you know where to find me.

that's one impressive weapon.

i didn't want it to come to this.

step aside. i'm going to my ship.

you want some soup?

this has been a real treat.

until our paths cross.

now, don't touch anything.

do you mind if i ask you something?

i'm gonna miss you so much.

bad news. you can't live here anymore.

you think you can do better?

this is more than i signed up for.

so you think i'm some kind of mercenary?

how'd you end up here?

it's very nice here.

i don't belong here.

#the mandalorian #rp prompt #rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

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themotherofhorses · 1 year

Note

im begging you, dark!aemond bodyguard of the president/king’s innocent daughter omggggg

pairing: bodyguard!aemond targaryen x president's daughter!reader

warnings: explicit language. oral sex. loss of virginity (kinda). daddy kink. slight breeding and housewife kink. small mentions of past obsessive tendencies on aemond's part.

notes: hello, long time no write. consider this me using this request like i'm saddling the horse after getting thrown off.

(also ik aemond might not seem AS dark as other times but like pretty pls read between the lines. thank you ☺️)

masterlist

For being the nation’s current president, your father was quite the fucking fool of a man.

He loves you, truly. How could he not? You were the spitting image of your late mother, and the youngest of his children- his sweet little chick that was barely beginning to spread her wings and leave the nest. He would never forgive himself if you ever got hurt due to his elected role as the commander-in-chief and head of state.

That was the main reason why he hired Aemond Targaryen as your personal bodyguard.

The man had a commendable record behind him, despite his young age. Your father was beyond impressed with him when he first interviewed him for the job. Two tours in the U.S. army as a sergeant and sniper before receiving an honorable discharge and a Purple Heart due to an eye injury while seeing combat overseas. According to some of the everyday politicians, he threw himself over his younger nephew during an ambush with enemy fire, and took a massive chunk of bomb shrapnel to the left side of his face; doctors saved him, of course, but his eye was too damaged to save.

They offered him a glass eye and a fully paid scar revision (along with special vet benefits and apparently some hush-hush money as well), but he refused it all. Instead, he accepted the purple heart, crammed a pretty and shiny sapphire into his empty socket, and made sure everyone- military personnel and civilian altogether- looked him in both eyes whenever they addressed him.

The rumors were true- Sergeant Aemond One-Eye was as terrifying as he was deadly.

Perhaps that was the reason why it did not take very long for him to be buried between your thighs.

You never had a boyfriend before, always too devoted towards your college academic and hobbies, and way too protected and overshadowed by your father. But it was Aemond who stole your first kiss, two months into his new job as your bodyguard. He had been accompanying you on a small shopping trip to the mall, treating it as a sort of bonding experience. When you had mentioned the new lip gloss you were trying out (it was flavored ‘chai latte’), he had asked to taste it.

Okay! you giggled, thinking nothing of it; only for it to be a week later and with his head in between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man.

“Stop it…! Aemond! My daddy might walk in!” You cried, tossing your head back against the pillows as you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the moans from tumbling out. It was all in stupid vain; your bodyguard had you putty in his hands. Anything he wanted, you would happily give him- yourself included. “A-Aemond…!” How could he ever stop? Not when you sounded oh so fucking pretty, so sweet and yummy, his newfound favorite meal served to him on a silver platter, just ready to be completely devoured.

Aemond shook his head. “I don’t give the tiniest shit, babygirl,” he muttered as he sucked on your clit, only pausing every few seconds to kiss your soaked pussy. He had to be soft as well, considering this was a fucking dream come true for him.

The poor bastard remembered all the times he saw you on the television, in those paparazzi photos and the Christmas cards and those gorgeous social media posts of yours. No one would ever understand just how badly he wanted you, and the lengths he went just to have you.

And, well, maybe you should’ve thought first before stepping out in that sinful, short-cut and backless blue dress, the one that made you look perfect for him to knock up, his pretty little housewife. Perfect for him. Made for him. He kept your legs wide open with the tightest grips as he feasted on your cunt, ignoring your desperate (but adorable) attempts to push him away.

“If you can’t handle this, how will you handle my cock?” he tutted. “Poor baby, I’m going to fucking destroy you.”

Everything made your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, especially when you felt him lick a large stripe up your pussy before he shoved his face in only deeper. You squealed, hiding your face from behind your hands. You could feel his nose, his chin, the heavy pants and low growls and soft kisses he peppered along inner thighs. “And what did I say to call me?” before he gave your ass a hard spank.

You whimpered, already on the verge of sobbing. Fat tears were streaking down your cheekbones. “I-I’m sorry…s-so sorry, daddy!”

Oh but your entire body felt like it was lit on fire- a burning yet tightening sensation nestled deep within your belly. It was so strange. You didn’t know what to make of it. Your head lolled to the side while your back arched up from the bed and your hand found Aemond’s long, whitish-blond hair.

(A common genetic mutation in his family, according to him. Some of the politicians mocked it as the ‘new Habsburg jaw’. You thought it made him look all the godlier.)

His hands soon slid up to your breast, palming and tweaking your nipples between his fingers. Your toes curled as you felt ready to explode at any second. “Daddy!” you mewled, peering down through teary eyes to watch as his face shook side-to-side. His own face held sheer bliss, especially when he brought a finger to trace along your drenched folds. “Daddy…! Daddy! Ah, gods, please!”

“Yeah, that is right, pretty baby, I’m your new daddy now.”

Your father was none the wiser to the fact that, every night, his youngest daughter’s bodyguard had her in a mating press every night, whispering into her ear that it would not be long until she made him into a real daddy.

It was the least you could do in return, considering he was protecting your life with his.

After boring meetings and countless banquets and your a.m. college classes, Aemond would be quick to shove your panties in your mouth before bending you over the nearest furniture set.

You were his.

All his.

His pretty baby, his sweet little future housewife, the girl whose picture he used to secretly carry in one of the vest pockets during his days in the military.

One day, your father pulled him aside and offered him a bonus.

“Truth is, son, you’re doing such a fine job at protecting her. I don’t worry as much as I did before you came along. We could not ask for a better bodyguard, Sergeant,” he admitted, patting him on the back. “Would there be anything you’d like in payment? A vacation? A bonus? Some free time with your family? I know you miss your mother very much; my little girl told me.”

But Aemond shook his head, declining everything. “Sir, with all due respect, your daughter feels like my new family now, considering how close we’ve grown in these past several months, and my duty in keeping her safe. I would prefer to remain by her side if you would allow it,” he said, and your father gave him a cheeky grin.

“Should I perhaps be worried, Sergeant?”

“Of course not, Mr. President. I adore your daughter, but only as a brother would his little sister.”

So it was true, it seemed- your father, bless his heart, was quite the fucking fool of a man. It should’ve been no surprise to him at all that seven months down the line from his conversation with your bodyguard, you would be trying to hide a swollen baby bump from everyone's eyes.

And if he really was smart, then he would’ve remembered the reason why the Targaryens were so often compared to the old Habsburgs of Austria.

#aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond smut #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #request #vic writes 🧸

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getodrools · 3 months

Note

okay we had priest nanami.. but what about priest higuruma? i feel like he fits it too 🤭🤭

໒꒰ྀི｡•̀ᴗ-꒱ྀི 🗞️ YUMM ! nonnieee my head is FULL and i might explode ! he definitely fits this role so well – his ominous aura just gives me the creeps ! ! alsooo, this is gonna be in the same universe with priest nanami — i couldn't help myself ! they'd work sooo well together D;

+ here is that priest nanami fic – that's about the same concept if you enjoyed this one ! <3

I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! reader. church au. sacrilege. blasphemy. public sex/church sex (confessional box). religion talk. manipulation. cervix fucking (cause quite guys have big —-!). subtle (m) masturbation if you wink. dacryphilia. use of father. glory hole. oral sex (m). spit as lube. cum shot. | WC –> est 1.3k+

he knew what you did.

hiromi wasn't around as much. not from what you could see. you knew they both worked together, but never more…

he'd sulk with deep eyes, pupils wide and dilated behind hooded robes – his nose would peak out from the shaggy cloth like one with a medieval beak when he'd watch at the corner… unlike father nanami’s robes; heavenly and bright with hints of baby blue beneath, gold accents to hang, and the dusty blonde hair pulled it together too.

hiromi was the contrary.

he'd allow himself to be swallowed up by the dark corners in the church, and still. stiff with no movement, he'd watch. keep himself hidden almost as if he's locked in the confessional box with no say... hiromi was another priest, everyone knew of him, but ignored him – or acknowledge him as much as father nanami. nothing close to the praise he gets, even though everyone goes to him daily… you'd assume because he knew the darkest secrets your friends have, or all the lies they've told and they'd rather not speak upon it again, holding a slight worry towards a faded man that knows of every unknown.

people around town only heard him speak once or twice. they did all the talking, of course, he was one you could confess to. you never heard him speak. maybe a hum before but you couldn't even tell that was him either. he'd carry a small bible and a fist full of rosemaries.

they'd jingle when he sauntered.

“father, hiromi… i only come to you… because i have a confession…” that day was overwhelming.

it felt right – it felt amazing! you felt your whole body through and through, exploring it with the holy father of this church. you never felt closer to god, but it felt like the wrong way to take such a comfortable seat.

“y/n…” you had a voice he's heard echo down these halls and it was ringing. louder than the church bells itself, but his… it was dauntingly deep tearing. a deep rasp that made you flinch even with a thick wall between you both.

“i remember. once… three years ago you confessed to lying about the bible you stole.”

your bottom lip catches between clattering teeth. you still feel terrible to this day.

you never visited the conffensianl box often. the last time was intimidating, as if you knew you deserved that unnerving treatment for what you caused… even walking by it licked goosebumps up your spine, sometimes catching his eyes between the peeking wood; the whites of them becoming fuller as they'd follow every move…

“yes, you are right. but i was forgiven.” your thighs shift awkwardly.

“…”

silence and a small tap of the rosemaries moving was all you could hear. the heavy air pressuring at your lungs he created in such a small space was forcing words to spill out – easily, “i confess that i have sinned… and i repent from my… sexual sin, and i beg for your forgiveness.” you stumble quickly over that keyword.

god already knows of the details. so sparring yourself with a quick confession was your route.

“…”

“i want to obey your ways lord, and i want to honor you with my chaste… please..?”

your begging was cute.

“you've been fucked in the cunt before marriage. no man would want you now.” his vulgar spew made you gasp, eyes wide but heart sinking at the truth, “honor your words and show the lord you speak nothing but the truth.” hiromi’s voice dropped an octave rolling with a hard hiss as a small hole etching through panels filled with light that peers from father hiromi’s side.

you honored the sacred father through and through. the whole town knew too, the priests, of course, and sisters knowing your name so much you wanted to become one yourself… honoring the holy spirits angels in the church felt just as good and the priests only wanted your love for god no matter and always beside to direct you. you took nanami’s words once and he guided you, and another priest as close to him – you'd take that chance again to touch the clouds of heaven.

like it was destined.

like it was planned.

too stupid to notice anyway – and too trapped in this lope of always wanting to be forgiven…

. . .

the priest behind the wall dragged a middle knuckle up the slit of your pussy.

your eyes clench.

squeezing ever so tight, fine lines wrinkled into your features. it was cold as he slipped between the seeping pool of wet slick… your ass was pressed plush against the mahogany wood, nothing but fat folds pucker out the small hole as your hands held dear to the chair ahead, waiting.

he takes two digits and wrecked your sodden hole; spreading you wide with a quick scissoring – his middle finger dipping between with ease. with haste. no need to hear the small squeaks you babble out… the priest hooked in deep, cramming the hilt into you. hooking at your softest spots before popping his finger out; short-lived, a stringing trail of glistening still webbed between his digits.

he dammned, ‘flthy...’

the meat of his cock was freed sometime, or had it been jostled with earlier; edging to the wreck you cried out in, hearing your not-so-secrets spill out on the other side stiffen him up…

hiromi pressed the bulbous crown eagerly against your puffy folds. and with a sharp application of pressure, he squished the wetness of your chaste down; treating it to a haze of heat that left you gasping. your sodden silt wept in a vigorous stretch, full pentration and a wad of spit to your little hole made room for the invasive fill.

hiromi groaned at the tightness of your walls hugging him, and the warmth of your cunt sucking him in made the man instinctively hammer strong hips forward; deep, languid strokes left your cunt rippling and stretching – sensitive walls swelling in blossoming bruises, feeling hiromi barrel himself between the sweet heat of your legs in all focus to hurry and empty his balls…

your nothing but a church girl.

-- the church's girl.

your fingers uselessly clench down on whatever was in reach to fight off the awkward strain of hiromi ramming into your sopping depths. it was all over again, heavinly bliss jackharrming you out – just how father nanami stretched and fucked you over the stages pulpit, now bent in front of the hole in a confessional box with his holy brother…

all inches of tan, thick cockmeat stuffed you over the hilt. stiff pole pressing in deep until the leaking crown prodded at your cervix – your jaw tightening around prayers… webbing around his cockhead, he rammed himself into your perk cervix ‘till it hardened in bruises as your ass bounced against the wall and tight cunt fluttering full of cockmeat that stretched everything at once mercilessly.

hiromi‘s balls cradle up, tightening at your onslaught. the priest's cock throbbed, and burbled with cum.

“on your knees.”

it was quick, the empty gape clenched around nothing in need and you couldn't help but whine. twisting fast at his command – to fill another hole, your mouth instinctively aah’s in welcome.

wrapped in shadow only with arms delving out from the darkness gripped you close…

you never caught his face much when you visited, but you knew of the deep clover eyes above heavy bags and sunken skin were beneath his robes. but now you can only imagine how deep settled his features laid – possibly brows furrowed, his nose scrunching, eyes widening… but only his sacred dick flashed around your face…

he could see all of you and your pitiful shame. the small peaks he created over the years helped him watch your pretty eyes ogling upwards; and the carved wood you caught displayed mother mary herself.

nowhere's to blink.

you flinch.

at the time the embarrassment was immense, you could have hidden as a child may have – the vulnerability at mark to your naked frame crawled with a cold shiver; a rise of goosebumps layering cross naked flesh, face even running cold with sunken gape.

hiromi guided you – and your weeping mouth closer to the sleazy hole in his confession box. the small room with thin walls began to feel more squeezed in than usual – his towering body filling half the space on his side began to crowd yours… it was a nimble carved gap; only enough for a single pair of hands wrapped in the chains of roses with mary herself dangling off the side to crawl up your throat. father hiromi gave the supple skin a squeeze before tugging at your scalp.

your mouth panted out a wet ‘o’ in return.

“accept the lords offering.” the priest dipped his tip back into your mouth, “and the lord will forgive you.” old mahogany wood almost splinters at your forhead. the raw slip of his cock filled your throat and made you bubble with spit – words even foaming into webbed slick. it began to squelch when you tried to pray, speaking around a block full of dick meat was messy, and incoherent… but the soft hum vibrating around the thick of his bulbous cap was close enough. he could hear the rhythm of your prayers droning a longing chant and it was beautiful. the puffing of your cheeks before retching and spit stringing from tip to puffy lips was glorious...

you harmonize prayers around him – some syllables dropping or skipping words entirely, but no faster than the bubbling tears welting down your cheeks. your face was left ridden and stained, and the father was twitching as tears began mixing with sappy drool.

he could almost taste the shame thickening in the air.

hiromi was face fucking the truth out of you; the crown of his cock shoveling out spews of confessions each time his hips rocked out, only to crowd that small space again to the hilt… seeking and discovering secrets.

your eyes twitched and rolled back.

it didn't take much.

he kept himself in there for years.

the priest's thumb swipes at your tears, soothing at the burning skin but he wasn't here for empathy; this is a confession box, he curses and pinches at the taut flesh until you opened wider.

your tongue straddles his capped tip. tasting a tangy salt and fresh cum pooling at the soft ‘bowl’ you keep open for him. hiromi twitches and jerks the rest of himself out; a spunk of batter thickly ropes out onto your buds.

you look up, eyes watering with a banter – the carving of the holy figure looked back down at you...

<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE HIROMI –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮!#💌 !#ᝰ hiromi higuruma!#hiromi smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #hiromi jjk #higuruma hiromi #hiromi x reader #tw sacrilege #tw blasphemy #tw public sex #tw religious themes #tw dacryphilia #higuruma smut

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selvyyr · 2 months

Note

Omg I’ve recently found your blog and I love the way you write! The little miss fortune!reader is such a cute series!

I was hoping to request the hazbin hotel crew with an overlord reader who’s like rarity! She’s very prim and proper but despite coming off as snobby she’s the literal definition of generous.

for every one criticism she has she’s got 5 compliments to give like “oh,darling that colour does not make you sparkle but my goodness your bone structure makes up for it.your eyes do compliment the style quite well though”

(She also has hooved feet and a long cow like tail? Those unicorn drawings where they have those long pretty tails are to die for)

A/N:Cosh,i love rarity smm!!!,amd it's honor to make rarity!Resder:3.Enjoy!<3

|MASTERLIST!|

୧ ‧₊˚💫🎞 ⋅ ☆

↪You came to hell around the late 1950's..

↪You become overlord so quick and made many deals with sinners..

↪You have a tail and ears..As you love them!

↪You are known as "Control desginer" because your powers were control people who had made deals or even stole your original desgins and such..

↪You come to the hotel because you wanted to help with their desgins.. But you ended up living there..

୧ ‧₊˚💫🎞 ⋅ ☆

Charlie

↪Charlie knew you and didn't wanted to make you upset/angry.

↪When you came to her hotel and started designing stuff.. She let you be..

↪And when she heard you compliment her.. She was so stunned.. Like:

"That clothes are hideous on you darling...But your eyes and beauty are an art!"

You told charlie.. As charlie looked quite stunned but smiled.. As she spoke

"Thank you!You are beautiful too!"

Vaggie

↪She knew who you are and tries to avoid you..

↪That changed when you begin to give her newly desgined bows and clothes she had wore..

↪When you begin to give her compliments and help her.. She thought it was trick untill she realized it wasn't..

↪She's chill with you

Husk

↪husk knew you when he was an overlord or wasn't one.

↪You are one of the people who makes him feel calm and safe..

↪Sometimes he would wear the bows you had desgined for him

↪He stepped on your tail once and regretted it quickly..

Alastor

↪Who desgined his clothes?You did!

↪Alastor met you when he first arrived in hell..And you decided make him some clothes to match his style and actually he was suprised that you made a clothing that matched him alot

↪You,rosie and alastor are besties and spill tea together alot whenever you guys hang out.

↪So when he saw you in the hotel he greeted you like the gentleman he is

Nifty

↪Nifty had heard you from alastor and husk sometimes.

↪So when she met you,she had tried to stab your tail..

↪Overall you would tell nifty where any roaches are and she is very happy to kill more roaches!

↪You would give her new outfits to try on and she loves it all and made you a crown!

Angel dust

↪Angel dust likes your styles and such,you two became really good friends!

↪You would often make him new clothing and accessories alot.He likes it alot and the clothing you make him matches him too!

↪When he told you about valentino..Let's say that when angel dust came to the studio next day he was met with you choking valentino to death before letting out a heavy sigh and left with angel dust

↪Fat nuggets nuzzles against your legs,tail and likes you alot!

Sir pentious

↪He knew you who you are and he had challenged you before but got defeated.

↪You would often give him little accessories and clothing such as new suit,new bow and hat etc.

↪His egg bois like you and calls you "Mrs.Rarity" which you like alot about

↪You do give him some tips about his works and such.

୧ ‧₊˚💫🎞 ⋅ ☆

A/N:That's it!Hope you liked this!<3.Have a nice day/evening/night!<3

#fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #selvyyr answers #Rarity!Reader

171 notes · View notes

beardedalcoholic · 13 days

Text

Memories of a Soul

Galgac couldn’t believe his luck.

He cursed the circumstances but promised himself he would make the most of it. For a space faring species like himself this was possibly a once in a lifetime opportunity for not only himself but his race and the galactic community as a whole.

A human was dying, an actual human! The tiny gods that ascended to the stars upon pillars of flame and madness, the seemingly unstoppable tide of warriors risen from their garden world of death.

Over a hundred cycles had passed since they took to the galactic scene and in that time, they had started as many wars as they had stopped and brought a level of culture unseen beforehand.

Wars between worlds that had been raging beyond the memory of those involved had been quelled by their words and ideas, while oppressive regimes and entire governments had been toppled from their previously unreachable heights.

With a standard lifespan many times that of their space sailing counterparts it was not unheard of for a human to be entrusted with knowledge, items, messages or words of wisdom for later generations.

Added onto this seemingly impossible life span it was well known that humans simply did not accept death. Injuries that would kill many other species were more of an inconvenience to the humans, some looked at the loss of limbs and organs as a challenge to come back from and try again while others used their story as a way to teach and warn future generations of miniature titans.

================================================

For a species known for being able to dive deep into the psyche of practically any and all species, humans were like forbidden treasure troves of knowledge and wisdom: firsthand experience of historical events, important conversations, debated actions of who did what? and why?

All of this information and more could usually be found in the mind of a human…of course there was only the small matter of GETTING the information.

Human minds were said to be nigh impenetrable to all but the cleverest of infiltrators and even then, it was said once you got in there was no telling what you would, or could find. Human mental defenses were said to range from endless labyrinths that constantly changed their configuration to impossible creatures from the humans’ imagination.

To be invited to meet a human was a great honor, to meet one dying of old age was thought among some to be impossible as many species still believed them immortal. To not only be allowed to enter the human’s mind, but to be invited to do so was almost too incredible to believe.

“You’re Galtakal’s kid aren’t you?” The raspy voice from the bed snapped Galgac out of his mental musings.

Following the voice to its source on the hospital bed Galgac focused on the human, thin hair the color of silver, skin wrinkled and spotted with age unheard of among most species, muscles that at one time could bend Taraxian steel and break Fomotian carapace lay withered and atrophied as mere shadows of their former glory.

Lines creased the human’s face telling of cycles beyond measure spent smiling and laughing…as well as snarling and frowning…the stories this human’s physical self could tell alone were staggering. The eyes though were what nearly stole Galgac’s breath…blue like a clear warmth cycle with not a cloud in sight, yet still sharp as a mono-molecular blade…age may have robbed this human of his physical might, but even time could not seem to dull the mind of this once legendary creature.

“Y-yes, um yes sir, Galtakal was my sire…how could you know that…sir?” The human laughed quietly to himself before he answered.

“The bio-luminescent spots on your face, they are almost exactly like your fathers’ spots…you carry yourself the same as well…arrogance like none other, well deserved and justifiable no doubt, but still I want to punch you in the face just like the first time I met your father. I miss him you know, he deserved a better death than what he got…self-sacrificing prick left you a message by the way, I imagine you will find it at some point.” Galgac was speechless…this human had known his sire, it sounded like they knew each other personally even.

Walking forward Galgac reached out to the human and laid his webbed digits within the human’s grip, barely restrained strength still coursing through the powerful muscles and bones even in his advanced age. With a feeling not unlike having his brain liquified and then vacuumed through a long tube Galgac slid his awareness down his arm and into the human before him.

================================================

Galgac found himself on a battlefield on a planet he had never been to, human atmospheric air fighters...jets they called them...screamed overhead with the battle cries of war maddened harbingers of an apocalypse.

Bullets split the air with sonic booms and whizzed like furious insects while lasers and bolts of superheated plasma melted armor...bombs went off far away, no...closer...to close!

Galgac found himself picked up by an ethereal giant and slammed down on his back, surely such an impact just broke his entire back plate and probably a few organs were going to be bleeding...no, he was getting back up...how was he getting back u-

*OOF!*

Suddenly a body slammed into him just before a searing line of plasma wrent the air where his head had been seconds before.

Looking towards the figure that had just slammed him back into the ground, and saved his life in no uncertain terms, Galgac was shocked…

“Father?” The face looking at him was much younger, but it was unmistakably the face of his sire.

“Are you injured human? Can you still fight?” Galgac nearly lost the connection to the humans’ mind with the flood of emotions that came with that question.

A figure blocked the unknown planet’s sun, a long blade raised to strike the both of them in a single blow. With unfamiliar muscles and reactions that superseded conscious thought Galgac wrapped his father with arms that felt as though they could crush the seemingly fragile body within their grasp to a pulp and rolled to the side until he was looking down upon his father from a reversed position of their previous one.

Adrenalin surged, muscles tensed, nerves fired like atomic engines and Galgac felt his new and unfamiliar body sing with a power he had never known...he wanted to run, he wanted to mate, he wanted to fight, oh how he wanted to fight, to strike down the enemy and scream his power to the skies of this alien world in defiance of all attempts to defeat him.

Surging to his feet and drawing the combat vibra-blade from his shoulder sheath Galgac spun to engage the enemy, only for the visage of the human from the hospital bed to appear, grab him by the throat and lift him up and out of his new body.

“Sorry about that, Galtakal told me that might happen but I didn’t really think about it until a few seconds ago...I guess the thoughts of your father got me thinking about the first time we met. He saved my life you know, I saved his in return a few seconds later but that was irrelevant…”

Galgac tried to focus on what was his and what was memory, the feeling of being human for just those few seconds was intoxicating.

The power contained in the limbs, seeing the world in spectrums of color and depth so vastly different than his own, senses all on fire from the bloodlust of battle sending him so much information about his surroundings. He was amazed the humans could possibly process it all...and there, in front of him he saw the human whose mind he was now intruding upon, watching his past self and Galgac’s sire fight side by side.

Like two dancers they spun around each other...no... the human ducked and wove like a zephyr of cutting wind around his sire, slicing with his blade and drawing blood with every strike while his sire would spin in place from one target to the next, expertly placing blaster rounds through vital points.

Seeing his sire like this was...jarring to say the least, for so long he had known him as a peace loving and quiet individual. Seeing one of his progenitors as a whirling dervish of war and death seemingly moving in time with a human was...well he would have to explore those thoughts later, for now he had years of memories to view.

“Come on lad, let me show you around a bit.” Hearing the voice of the human whose mind he was intruding upon just before a powerful hand fell upon his shoulder gave him just enough time to brace himself. The world around them seemed to blur and melt into a confusing wash of colors before seeming to solidify into a new scene, thankfully less chaotic.

================================================

Looking around, Galgac realized he was on a ship...by the markings upon the bulkheads it was... yes, the UGF Predatory Might, the first ship designed by humans and built by the Unified Galactic Federation.

Seeing the human begin walking down the hall Galgac followed him and did his best to pay attention to everything at once, this was a ship not often seen by non-humans and even then, it was only really sent for one of two reasons...War and Relief.

This ship alone contained enough armaments to send most smaller celestial bodies spinning into a star while also boasting one of the most advanced medical facilities in the known universe. Walking along the hallways of the ship Galgac could only marvel at what he saw, humans walking to and fro with some running and dodging around their counterparts with grace unseen in most species and others casually reading various reports and updates on tablets while simultaneously avoiding collision with those around them.

“Ya know I never did figure out how they did that...just dodge around everyone without looking up from reading and still be able to comprehend what they were looking at.” Spinning to look at the human, Galgac felt his luminescent markings begin to glow brighter...this human was not JUST a human as he had been led to believe...this was…

“B-b-battle Master Alventar…” This was one of the most highly decorated humans in recent history, he had personally led more successful war efforts than any other human on record and who had planned an almost incalculable amount of side missions, some of which wouldn’t be released for at least a century AFTER his death.

“Yes yes...that was one of my titles, did they not tell you who I used to be? Ah well, no matter, come let me show you why we are here.” With an easy smile and almost eager stride the Battle Master continued on down the hall. Following quickly Galgac whipped his head around enough that if he was in a physical body his neck would be getting sore. “Here it is lad…” Battle Master Alventar said ahead of him as he slid through a door and then looked through a window, his voice was oddly low and almost reverently anticipatory. Catching up to the human Galgac gazed at him and noted the strange look upon his face.

A small smile graced the human’s face, coupled with the simple light of joy in his eyes seemed to shed decades from his visage.

Seeing him pressed up against the glass like a child caused Galgac to gaze in slight wonder...this human was one of the most brilliant battle minds of the known galaxy, he had seen more battle than most battalions and had been in command longer than Galgac had been alive, what could possibly be beyond that glass to make him act this way?

Turning from the Battle Master, Galgac gazed through the glass and was slightly taken aback...he actually had to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, one of the figures within the room was a much younger version of the human standing next to him.

Standing within the room was a mid-thirties Alventar standing next to a rather large woman, her stomach vastly bloated out, disproportionate to what the rest of her body would suggest would be normal. She should have looked like a slim, mocha skinned, dark-haired goddess of a woman but instead she was a rather large, round, goddess of a woman. Skin flushed with exertion and gleaming with sweat the young woman’s face was screwed tight with pain, breaths coming in short pants and gasps.

“What um...what am I looking at Battle Master...why are we here?” Galgac asked softly.

“This is one of the most momentous days of my life… I tell you now lad, I have seen stars collapse and die, I have seen battlefields strewn with bodies uncounted and I have witnessed entire planets and civilizations reduced to dust but right here...this moment...this is when I witnessed the greatest miracle to grace this universe…the act of bringing LIFE into the world…” The look on the Battle Master’s face was one of tearful joy beyond anything Galgac could relate to.

Feeling the psychic resonance between them Galgac was soon swept up in a wash of golden joy beyond anything he could have ever conceived. The feeling that flooded his entire mental being was enough to bring him to tears at the simple and expansive joy of it, vitality and warmth flooded down his limbs and seemed to invigorate his muscles and nerves until they were singing like a solar storm.

“She’s here...my Star Queen…” The Battle Master spoke in a low voice usually reserved for quiet temples and altars. With a voice like he was invoking an ancient goddess’s name the Battle Master pressed himself harder against the glass and continued to speak.

“She was always the best thing I had ever done, my greatest accomplishment and most beautiful achievement…” Galgac reluctantly shook himself of the golden feelings and gazed within the room, there laying on the bed was the dark-haired woman holding a small bundle of blankets to her chest.

Looking closer Galgac could see the small figure of a human baby swaddled in the blanket, it seemed to be rather upset at its current situation as it was apparently crying.

“I am afraid I do not understand...it is merely a child, there are many of them and they all seem to look like that when they are born…” In later years Galgac would learn how close he came to getting a royal ass whooping right then and that the look on the Battle Master’s face was not one of deep confusion but rather murderous incredulity.

“I have left entire continents barren and choked with death, I have orchestrated missions that toppled governments and overthrew tyrants across more star systems than I can remember but right there, in that room is the first woman to see me for more than the battle scars and nightmares. In her arms is the first time I have ever been associated with life...she is my greatest achievement because she is the result of a true partnership, a battle pair, life mates and soul bonds. That little girl in there has the beauty, strength, mind and absolute power of her mother….and I guess my eyes along with some other stuff…”

Looking into the room once more Glagac observed the interactions of the mother and child, how when the Battle Master was introduced he seemed to show a level of care and gentleness not usually seen in his species of near immortal battle fanatics.

Watching the three of them, two elders and a newborn, Galgac saw how they instinctively covered the babe with their bodies from threats unknown, how they both glared at any medical professional that dared approach them even if for no more than a heartbeat.

These were new parents and they would scorch all of creation if it meant their child was safe. The Golden sense of unparalleled joy was soon suffusing him as he opened himself to the psychic resonance again, except this time it was tempered and sheathed in a layer of Steel resolve. Galgac found himself almost overwhelmed at the sheer power behind these two humans’ determination that nothing would harm the child they brought into this world.

The feeling of a hand landing solidly upon his shoulder caused Galgac to jump slightly. Whipping his head to the side he saw the Battle Master looking at him with an expression of profound sadness somehow mixed with un-ending joy.

“Time to go lad...There is no way for me to ever repay you for this gift. You have allowed me to witness the birth of my firstborn once more, the birth of the Brightest Star in my Skies and it is something I never thought I would ever be able to experience again outside of my hazy memories.” Turning away from Galgac the Battle Master made his way to the infirmary door that opened onto a completely different world.

“Well? You wanted to see my memories right?” Shaking himself of the lingering golden affects that the birth of his daughter caused, Galgac hurried to the new door and the memory that lay beyond.

================================================

Walking out of another memory Galgac was giving a new definition to the term disoriented, his head was spinning from the sheer amount of LIFE this single human had experienced. In the last few heartbeats Galgac had experienced events and conversations that could topple at least two governments and probably allow him to black mail an entire planet and that was before the sheer amount of training and battle this man had seen.

“I...I had no idea…” Words did not easily surface in the hurricane of his mind after seeing what he had just witnessed.

“I know right? Who would have thought your old man was such a badass! I still have no idea where he got a donkey, a ladder, three cases of genuine earth tequila and five pounds of C-4...but that had to be the best bachelor party Calament IV has ever seen.” Finishing this statement with a hearty laugh and missing Galgac’s response that he could have told the man how much of a badass his dad was, the two of them looked around at their newest setting.

Cheers and applause assaulted Galgac’s auditory receptors like a rogue wave upon a beach. Lights flashed and a sun much harsher than his world’s own glared at him from above. A gentle breeze was the only respite Galgac received from the sudden change in settings, this was one of the things he hated the most about going through another being’s memories: having to experience their life through what they remembered. The day could have been ten degrees cooler and the wind even stronger but if the human didn't remember it that way then Galgac sure wasn’t going to experience it that way.

“Ughh...I was really hoping to never have to relive this day, I guess it makes sense to go from some of the best days of my life to one of the worst…still sucks though.” Galgac looked to his side after he acclimated to the harsh environment and was shocked once more.

Standing beside him was the Battle Master, but much diminished from his previous gravitas.

Mid to late twenties at best, he almost looked like a child playing dress up. Fresh faced and with coal black hair he stood there in his dress uniform, creases on his pants crisp enough to slice fruit, shirt fitted perfectly and starched to within an inch of its life. He looked every inch the perfect young military tactician...except the eyes. The usually deep pools of light blue were now frozen over and shallow, the sight sent a shiver down Galgac’s short spine.

“This was the day...the day I received the most painful reminder of my actions, the day that started my worst nightmares.” In a moment of dissonance he had not experienced before Galgac watched as the Battle Master seemed to step out of himself.

With one vision walking forward to the call of his name and the other standing there as solid as a Column of Reality Galgac watched as the Head of the United Galactic Federation gave a short speech and proceeded to pin a shining medal to the Battle Master’s chest.

“Yes...a medal and speech about peace after one of the greatest instances of near xenocide in my species history. I was to be lauded and seen as a hero of war after making the final decision to nearly annihilate an entire race.”

The only warning Galgac had that something was going to change was the cold feeling of despair sliding through his veins like mercury right before the sunny day and gentle breeze blurred, running like water colors before Galgac’s eyes until he was standing upon the command deck of the UGF Last Resort, the most powerful warship in history.

================================================

“I ask you again Emperor, surrender for the sake of your future, for the sake of your planet and people!”

Captain Alventar pleaded across the vid screen to the enemy ruler. Pouring every ounce of desperation and desire for a peaceful outcome he could into his voice the captain leant over his console. Around him were men and women years into their fields of study and profession and all of them remained still over their stations as they awaited the final word from their Commanding Officer. The air was thick with tension and not a single member of the bridge crew dared even breathe too loudly as they awaited the reply from the Alanshel Emperor.

“We will never surrender human.” The voice came over the translator in a vile hiss of contempt.

“The Alanshel empire will take our rightful place as rulers of this galaxy and we will subjugate all those that resist us!” It was only by the feeling of frustrated embers squirming across his skin like writhing eels that told Galgac what Captain Alventar was truly thinking, even more so when the embers cooled and became like shards of metal slowly sinking down to drive themselves into his very bones.

“I was afraid you would say that...Just remember that you brought this upon yourself...and may your Gods visit mercy upon your decision, for we will show none.” Galgac watched as the young captain stood up from his command console and seemed to simultaneously collapse and grow in presence.

Squaring his shoulders and straightening his spine with a sharp inhale the Battle Master stood there with his eyes closed as if steeling himself. With smooth, almost dreamlike movements the newly born Battle Master reached forward and flipped the cover off a deceptively small but violently red button.

“Let the record show all attempts were made to reach a peaceful solution...and all attempts failed...By the power and responsibility invested in my position as Captain of the UGF Last Resort and Leader of the Battle Fleet Armada, I am hereby calling a fleet wide orbital bombardment...all ships fire at will.”

That was all it took, pressing a small red button and the world seemed to turn in on itself for Galgac. The entire ship rocked and shuddered as its most powerful munitions were unleashed upon the world below. Across the view screens similar scenes played out from different angles...battle cruisers and warships ejecting massive payloads of death upon the planet below them.

Galgac watched in awe as the planet lit up like small suns were suddenly birthed upon its surface. Looking around the Control Center he noticed almost everyone had either looked away or closed their eyes not wanting to witness the destruction being wrought beneath them...but not the Captain, not the Battle Master.

Standing there in front of the poly-carbide windows of the Control Center the Captain stood with his arms clasped behind his back, shoulders rigid and legs straight...he would not watch what he had done on a screen when he could witness it firsthand. Galgac approached the Captain, the young Battle Master, and was shocked at what he saw...tears.

Tears were streaming silently down the Captain’s face as he looked down on the world he had just condemned to fire. His breathing was slow and steady, face seemingly carved in stone, shoulders and back locked in place as if he would defy the very laws of the universe to bend him from his stance. Yet his collar began to show signs of the tears soaking it and small plops rang like bells in the near silence as they fell to the floor.

It was in that moment Galgac felt he began to understand, the decision to burn the world below him had elevated The Captain to his position of Battle Master and in doing so had carved irreparable scars into his soul. With every tear that fell from the Battle Master’s eye, with every new blast that lit up the world beneath them Galgac felt a new wound upon his very soul, a new scar freshly made.

“Two billion, seven hundred and forty-three million dead in the first ten minutes of the barrage...by the calculations.” The voice that came from behind him was supposed to be the Battle Master, but it was hollow and dead as a tree left to die of disease. Turning away from the broken face of the newly minted Battle Master and ignoring the roiling flames and embers of the planet below them Galgac looked to the human whose mind he was currently walking through. Eyes like chips of ice, face hewn of stone and stance like a mountain enduring a hurricane, the True Battle Master stood there, tears streaming from his eyes as he looked down at the planet. The feeling that radiated from this pillar of strength was that of a human forged in battle, a cold breeze from Galgac’s homeworld at the turning of the seasons, soothingly cold and bracing but with the slightest change and without warning it could become sharp enough to slice to the bone.

“We will never know exactly how many died in the attack...never know how many were condemned to death by my actions, my failure to negotiate peace. I have been told by the best shrinks, negotiation experts, politicians, therapists etc etc that there was nothing I could have done. I have seen the reports, the statistical analysis and every piece of data we could possibly have of the war before, during and after this moment...it doesn’t help. I can hear them you know…” At this point Galgac thought he might be able to hear ‘them’...whoever ‘They’ were.

“I can hear them in my dreams...in my moments of weakness. I can hear the screams and cries of those that are burning down there right now. I can hear the ones that were on the edge and that survived the initial blasts. I can hear the ones that looked up to the skies that day and screamed as they gazed upon judgment being passed upon them. I was Judge, Jury and Executioner that day and I have never been able to tell myself otherwise.”

It was probably a trick of the memory but Galgac was certain the fires of the planet burned brighter and fiercer in the eyes of the True Battle Master for just an instant. The feeling of a turning season’s breeze faded only to be replaced by the feeling of a crushing weight placed upon him, as if chains forged in the fires of a dying planet were wrapping themselves around him.

Galgac was about to ask a question on what he was talking about when he felt a shift ...it was subtle but in no way insignificant. There was a weight behind this shift in the memory that defied the understanding of a mere mortal. Looking around himself Galgac noticed that things were becoming...wrong.

Corners had too many angles...distances were infinitely far away and yet too close to comprehend. Walls were suddenly as solid as time and yet as fluid as thought, gravity became nothing more than a concept as he slammed to the deck of the Command Center with all the power of a star falling from the heavens and yet landing like a feather.

“What...what is happening!?” Galgac asked as he picked himself up from the floor. Looking over to the Battle Master he was surprised to see a look of curious anticipation upon his face.

“Have you ever done this memory walk thing with someone who was dying? Ever heard of anyone who had?” The Battle Master asked with a sense of calm that seemed to spread to the surroundings.

The world seemed to solidify around them and once more Galgac was looking at nothing more than the memory of the ship’s interior. Looking back to the Battle Master, Galgac saw that he had begun walking down the main corridor towards engineering. Hurrying after the human Galgac cast one last look back to the planet as it burned beneath them under the continued barrage of the Fleet Armada.

In the time it took Galgac to turn his head back to the front they were passing through the galley, by the time he comprehended this fact they had stepped through the security door to engineering, before Galgac could even begin to think of the reason they had traveled so far, he found himself standing in front of a door covered in a variety of signs denoting hazardous levels of radiation beyond the door.

The air was heated as if they were in a sauna and hummed with barely contained power. Noticing the signs posted around them and seeing the various gauges on display Galgac realized they were next to the main reactor.

“The heart of the ship…” The voice from the Battle Master was almost reverent as he gazed at the door to the reactor chamber.

Walking as if in a dream the Battle Master stepped forward and opened the door before Galgac could stop him. Now Galgac had never been inside a reactor chamber but he was pretty sure it didn’t have such a bright light on the other side of the door.

Seeing the human silhouetted before him in a light so bright it should have hurt his eyes Galgac wanted to look away but found that he couldn’t. This could be some kind of new memory and he had to bear witness to it. A feeling like the very depths of the void between stars slowly began tracing over Galgac’s skin, cold beyond anything he could ever comprehend, tracing lines of dancing non-feeling across his entire being...down to his very soul.

“No Son, not that is not for you to see.”

A voice he had not thought he would ever hear again sounded in his ear just before a hand on his shoulder spun him around. Feeling himself wrapped in arms as familiar as they were comforting Galgac found he couldn’t speak past the raw feelings he was being bombarded with. Desperate yearning for something he had never had or experienced, a deep and ever-growing abyss of loneliness that promised to be relieved just beyond that light. Cold beyond anything he could ever understand battled with a warmth he could never forget while crushing solitude warred against familial companionship. “Father…”

The word was barely able to choke itself past the feelings he was trying to make sense of, Galgac drew upon the second-hand memory of a human’s power and will in order to wrap his own arms around the figure before him.

The form was smaller than he remembered, or he was bigger...regardless it was no less powerful than his last memory of it. He had always marveled at his father’s presence, the strength in his figure and weight of his gaze...now he knew, he understood what it was. His father had walked through the fires of a human’s mind and life and come out stronger for it and now it was his turn.

“Easy boy...I knew you would find yourself here one day, unfortunately this is all I can do for you. You mustn't look lad, that is not something for you to gaze upon.” The voice of his father was enough to bring tears of painful loss and joyous memory to Galgac’s eyes.

“What is it father, what is that light?” Galgac buried his face in his father’s broad shoulder in the same way he had as a youngling when he had accidentally viewed someone's mind and been scared of what he saw.

“It is the fire at the beginning and end of time, the edge of eternity and beginning of nothing...it is everyone's final destination.” Feeling his father raise his own head and hearing him speak again Galgac could tell he wasn’t the one his father was speaking to.

“Go ahead John, I’ll see you on the other side. I saved you a seat and a glass of whiskey just like you asked.”

“Thanks Gal, I’ll be seeing you soon...you got a good kid there you know.” It was probably just the strange feelings he was enduring but Galgac could almost swear he heard tears in the Battle Master’s voice.

“Yeah I know...he is pretty awesome, just like I told you all those times. As for you Son, it’s time for you to leave.” And indeed it seemed as if that would be the best plan of action as the world around him seemed to become less and less real with every failing heartbeat that now rang throughout the mental construct.

“Tell your mother I miss her and that there are so many goddesses in the afterlife I may have to lower my standards for one of them.”

Galgac gave a choked laugh at the stupid joke his parents always seemed to have...how his father could never bring himself to betray his mother because even if a goddess descended before him, she could never hope to live up to his mother’s beauty and sharp wit.

“HA...hehe…she is going to kick your teeth in when she catches up to you, you know that right.” He didn’t care that he was talking to a mental construct of a father that had died months ago...short by human standards but long enough to dull the pain for many other species.

“Yeah I know...well she has to catch me first. Farewell Son, it was good seeing you again.”

With those final words Galgac found himself surrounded by a crushing black void and the overwhelming sense of something staring at him. Something older than even humans could comprehend, something that was interested in him only as a future project or a topic to come back to in a casual conversation. Trying desperately to remember how to release himself from another’s mind, Galgac was just about to panic when he felt as much as heard a voice that would speak to him in his dreams and nightmares for years to come.

‘Not yet...’

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With a jerking start Galgac’s eyes snapped open and it was only after a few seconds that he could understand what he was seeing.

An off-white ceiling, meaning he was probably on his back...the soft cushion beneath him confirmed his current position. Turning his head Galgac realized the ringing in his ears was not in his head but rather the life signs indicator attached to the Battle Master.

“Do not bother…” The voice seemed to come from a great distance.

“The Battle Master has passed from this life and is enjoying his final peace.”

Oh...that was his voice...yes it was...closing his eyes Galgac began the process of reacquainting his mind with his physical body. A body he had been born with but had spent less than his full life-span within, a body that had tasted the power, ferocity and sheer depth of a human’s mind. Doing his best to ignore the sounds of the doctors trying to revive the great man one bed over Galgac forcibly relaxed into the cushion and did his best to bring order to his mind and body...and to come to peace with seeing his father one last time.

================================================

The Funeral for John Alventar, Battle Master, Peace Bringer, Black Operator...husband...father...beloved...was a thing of beauty beyond what most species would understand, but Galgac now could.

With his newfound understanding of how deep and powerfully a human could feel Galgac felt himself straining under the weight of the proceedings around him. An almost inconceivable amount of children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren approached to console him, as if he was the one losing a family member.

Representatives from the remaining Alenshal empire arrived along with ones from the Kalasha Shoal, Melenkal Coalition, Sardashian Republic and half a dozen other smaller groups. Entombed upon his final command ship, in a cask of demi-steel the Battle Master gently cruised towards his final destination.

The Black Hole known as Charybdis...an ever-consuming horizon of unknown danger and glory, what better final resting place for one as mighty as the human that had done so much in his lifetime.

Gazing out at the endless void and pinprick points of light Galgac nearly felt himself begin to slip back into the memories of John ‘Battle Master’ Alventar.

Over there was the main star of the system that birthed the Kalasha Shoal, thirty degrees up and seven to port was the home system of the Sardashian Republic...he was pretty sure he had grandchildren there, no...the Battle Master had grandchildren there, not him, not Galgac who had barely seen a handful of human cycles.

Giving himself a quick shake Galgac focused on the here and now, what could he hear and what could he see. With a disturbingly human pricking of his ears Galgac zeroed in on a conversation between the representatives from the Melenkal Coalition and the Sardashian Rep.

“Admit it, the only reason you are here is to make sure the old monster under your sleeping pad is truly dead.” The voice of the Melenkal Coalition was like gravel being tumbled in a metal tube.

“Saaaahh…this is true, I wish to make sure the Harbinger is truly gone as it would not be the first time he has falsified his demise.”

Contrary to the Melenkal representative the Sardashian’s voice was a musical mixture of chirps and whistles that translated to a rather pleasant songlike voice. It would be a few rotations before Galgac realized it but at the time he was not using his universal translator and was in fact simply understanding the words and sounds being spoken…much like a human would.

Looking out over the vast star field that was to bear witness to the Battle Master’s final journey, Galgac casually took note of the wide variety of vessels that had shown up in the last few hours. Flagships and attending lesser vessels lit up the surrounding area with active sensor sweeps as they maintained acceptable distances from each other.

Blocky and stout Melenkal Destroyers surrounded the long and lithe winged shapes of the Sardashian Rep. Weapons had been physically safed and disabled according to galactic funerary laws but the tension was still enough to be felt across the void. There may have been decent relations between the attending parties, but old grudges still reared their heads every now and then.

‘Ha…’old grudges’...none of these individuals have a grudge older than the Batt...than John’s youngest great- granddaughter…’Galgac just smiled bitterly to himself as he thought this.

Realizing why it was considered a double-edged honor to enter a human’s mind among his people Galgac did his best to remember who he was among the still fresh torrent of foreign memories. He thought he knew what it was to feel anger, but now he realized he had barely felt a candle’s heat when compared to the raging inferno of a human’s wrath. Sorrow was nothing new to him, but the crushing weight and dragging doubt that humans could endure showed him that he had not even begun to understand what loss and pain meant. Galgac had known happiness in his life, but he had never known the glowing golden light of a humans’ joy, the effervescent feeling of happiness pure and light that always seemed to make things a little easier.

It was with a depth of sorrow he had never felt before, and a greater understanding of the feeling itself, that Galgac watched the great vessel that carried the Battle Master cruise gently forward until it reached the event horizon of Charybdis. Watching the mighty starship be slowly pulled into the depths of the singularity and disintegrate the further in it went, Galgac felt now would be a good time to enact the Battle Master’s final wish.

Unseen to any others in the room Galgac pulled out a small remote and pressed a button.

With a flicker the various view screens around the observation deck switched over to a picture of the Battle Master. To say the occupants of the room were startled at seeing their honored nemesis glaring down at them when he should be well on his way down the throat of a black hole was an understatement.

“Hello everyone.” The voice of the Battle Master rang out over the station’s observation deck.

“By now you probably think I’m dead and well on my way to my final resting place...and I very well might be, but as you will never see my body, I want you to ask yourselves ‘Is it worth it to try and undo what he did?’...of course this might just be a pre-recorded message, but in case it isn’t let me give you one last piece of advice: let someone else figure it out first.”

Galgac had to draw on a few memories from the late John ‘Battle Master’ Alventar to make sure his laughter at the faces of horror that now surrounded him looked more like the shaking of sorrow and tears. Only a human would do something like this, strike one last bolt of terror into those that were so eager to see him dead.

Walking off the observation deck as unobtrusively as possible Galgac allowed himself to smile at the sounds of fearful chaos behind him, a true smile with teeth bared and cheeks pulled back to his ears, with eyes squinted and a laugh ready to bubble from his chest...a very human smile.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are space fae #ao3 fanfic

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